Fixed Determinence
by Musical Redhead
Summary: This universe is orderly and everything happens because of fixed determinence. There has to be reasons for everything. FutureFic
1. One in a Million

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter** **1**: One in a Million

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N:** I started writing mid season six, _right_ as Rory was going back to Yale. So _some_ of the things in season seven exist in this world, but I definitely left some of that stuff out (i.e. Lorelai + Christopher getting married; Lane + Zach marriage/kids; and Rory/Logan played out differently here).

**One in a Million**

Rory Gilmore sat idly in front of her computer screen one Wednesday afternoon. She needed to write an article for a fast approaching deadline, but no words found their way to the page. Instead she sat looking at the blank document, willing the article to write itself. She knew she had a large stack of work to tackle, but the thought of it all made her want to quit her job and drive away. It was a beautiful, cool spring day out and she was caged inside her office. She shivered a bit at the cold. The building was cold, not just in temperature; it had a steely manner about it. She made a mental note to wear a sweater tomorrow; or maybe she could ask her boss to turn the heat up. As if he would really care about her comfort. At one point in time he may have cared about her, but not any more. It was just as well, Rory thought; she didn't really want to go out of her way to talk to that man anyway.

March 24, 2010. The day's date was as far as she had gotten on her article before she decided to hit save and shut down her computer. It was clear that she would not be completing that task in her current state of mind. She cleared off her desk and walked out the door, locking it on her way out. She opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, thinking to herself that if she was going to be lazy in her office she shouldn't be lazy when she was cutting out early.

"Leaving already Miss Gilmore?" asked the parking attendant.

"Yeah, I was having writer's block and didn't want to waste this pretty day cooped up in my office. I don't even have a window in there! It's really quite oppressive. But you park cars all day in a dimly lit garage, so I'll stop complaining now."

"It's alright; I get to drive all your colleagues' cars. And you and I know how some of them like to live in luxury."

"Yeah, they can be a bit extravagant. I'm still driving the car my grandparents gave me when I started college. I'm thinking about buying a new one, though. I think it's time for something to change in my life. Why not start with a new set of wheels?"

"What kind are you thinking of getting?"

"I don't know, maybe I should let you pick it out, you _do_ see it more than I do."

"Well I'll have to think about that," he laughed. "Here comes Pete with your car now."

"See you tomorrow." Rory waved and gave a smile.

"Bye Miss Gilmore."

Rory climbed into her car and let Pete shut the door for her. Before she drove out she sifted through her CD collection and picked out Queen's Greatest Hits. _Killer Queen_ had been stuck in her head all day, and the only remedy was to listen to it and sing along. She pulled out of the parking garage and her car was instantly showered with the sun's light. She put on her sunglasses and rolled down the windows. Rory loved days like these, days when she could take the scenic route home and sing along with the radio. Spring had always been her favorite season. She kept this fact from Lorelai, as her mother's favorite season was winter. Rory liked snow just as much as the next person, but spring was when the world came alive. Flowers bloomed, birds chirped, bees buzzed, the air was warm, and life was all around.

Rory was so caught up in her musings while singing along with _Somebody to Love_ that she failed to notice that the driver of the car in front of her had decided to stop at the yellow light. Rory thought that they were both going to make the light and hadn't bothered to slow down; she slammed on her breaks in an attempt to stop. Her tires squealed spectacularly and she smashed into the car in front of her. She hit it with enough force that her air bags inflated in her face and her seat belt pulled her back to her seat.

"So much for my perfect spring afternoon," she muttered to herself as she crawled out of the car to assess the damage. She was definitely going to need a new car now. She was about to pull out her cell phone and call for a tow truck when she heard a voice and looked up.

"I already called for help," the person said as he approached her. Rory was now staring at the strangely familiar blonde man, trying to place him. He walked up to her and her jaw dropped.

"_Tristan_?" she said incredulously.

"You look a little familiar," he said, looking perplexed. "Please don't tell me I broke your heart back in high school or something."

"Don't flatter yourself; I never let you get close enough to my heart to break it."

At those words recognition dawned on him.

"Mary? From Chilton?" he asked with a growing smile.

"The name's _Rory_," she corrected, pretending to be angry. "But I guess you can call me Mary if it helps you get through the night."

"You can help me get through the night any time you like," he leered. "Whoa, I think I just opened the door to nine years ago. But I'm back now."

"That's a relief. I would hate for all of these people driving by to see us yelling at each other like a couple of sixteen year olds."

"And besides, what would we talk about at dinner if we hash it all out now?" he asked her innocently, the wheels in his head turning.

"Exactly. Wait, what dinner? I remember hitting a car and getting a blast from the past, but I don't remember any dinner plans."

"Mary, you maimed my car when you failed to yield at the yellow light, and now you owe me. Technically you owe me for the damages done to my car, but I think you'll have your hands full with your own. So, being the clever fellow that _I_ am, I thought of the perfect compromise: dinner. With me. I knew I'd get you in the end."

"You're blackmailing me, Tristan?" she asked in confusion.

"It wasn't on my list of things to do today, but it looks like it," he answered and gave her a cunning grin.

"I think you've hit an all time low, Tristan. But if I have no choice in the matter then I guess I won't argue."

"What?" he asked, surprised by his easy victory.

"Sure, why not? We're adults; I think I could handle one night with you."

"Oh, you just wait Rory, you'll succumb to my charm and you'll be begging for another rendezvous before the night is over."

"What do you think the chances are of that seriously happening?"

"About one in a million," he answered in a serious tone. "But I'm ok with those odds."

They exchanged phone numbers and Rory gave Tristan the address to her apartment so he could pick her up on Saturday night. Both were wondering how they had ended up in this situation in the first place. As Tristan was telling Rory to be ready by seven o'clock sharp, the tow truck had arrived, as well as the police. As the police officer was walking up to Rory to ask her some questions, Tristan started to walk away backwards towards his car with his hands in his pockets, still looking Rory in the eyes.

"You will be mine, Gilmore. Oh yes, you will be mine," he promised with a sly grin and then turned around to tend to his car.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Dragonfly Inn, how can I help you?"

"Uh, Mom? I called the house, not the Dragonfly."

"Sorry, Michel was out sick today so I had to take phone calls all day. I now understand why Michel is the way he is. People really are ignorant sometimes. Maybe I ought to be more sympathetic with him," Lorelai pondered.

"I'm sure you'll give him a big smile the next time he gets on your last nerve," Rory said.

"_Or_, I won't tell him that I have walked in his shoes and he'll be none the wiser."

"Good plan."

"Thanks. So did you make this call for business or for pleasure?" Lorelai asked her daughter.

"I'm not sure which category blackmail falls into."

"Are you the blackmailer or the blackmailee?" Lorelai asked.

"Blackmailee. I got into a bit of an accident and—," Rory started before she got cut off.

"Accident? Are you all right? Do you need me to come take care of you? Do you need anything at all?"

"Mom, calm down, I'm fine. I left unscathed. My car however, did not. I will need a new one if I plan to get to work on time in the future."

"So where does blackmail fall into all of this?"

"I rear ended someone I used to know. And instead of paying for the damages he's letting me off the hook in trade for a date," Rory explained.

"Who did you used to know? Come on Rory, quit being cryptic and give me the skinny."

"Tristan DuGrey."

"Tristan DuGrey, Tristan DuGrey. I almost remember the name. Refresh my memory as to who he is."

"He's the Tristan that called me Mary at Chilton. The Tristan that Paris had a crush on for years. The Tristan I kissed when I was broken up with Dean. The Romeo that left my Juliet."

"Oh, _that_ Tristan DuGrey. I remember now, thanks for the recap. This means that the real question here is: Is he man pretty?" Lorelai asked in a serious voice.

"Man pretty? What exactly is man pretty?"

"Oh come on Rory, is the boy good looking or not?"

"He isn't horrible to look at," Rory admitted.

"All right, so what's the problem then?"

"What do you wear to a blackmail date? Who pays? I mean, he's arranging everything, but I _did_ hit his car. Do we kiss at the end of the evening? Is this going to be a one time thing, or will there be more dates? Wait, he never even said the word date. Is it a date if he never really called it one? I mean, he did give me a determined look and said that I would be his," Rory rambled.

"Whoa. Slow the boat down a notch. Rory, listen to me, inhale. Now exhale. Maybe even count to ten, if that helps. You are making way too big of a deal out of this. Maybe he just wants to catch up with an old acquaintance. Wear something nice, but not too slutty. If he's doing the planning, then I think he should pay for it. Kiss him if you want, that's not my business, although Emily Post or Miss Manners or someone just as irritating would say to wait for the third date. And what was your last question again? Oh yeah, more dates usually depends on the quality of the first. Did that help you out at all?"

"Yeah, thanks Mom. I'm just a little nervous. I haven't gone on a first date in a long time. Not that this is one, or that I want it to be. I just forgot what it felt like."

"Well, what are mothers for?" asked Lorelai.

"I'll talk to you later mom. Love you."

"Love you too, bye."

"Bye."


	2. Yesterdays

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter** **2**: Yesterdays

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Yesterdays**

Rory was lounging on her bed reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_ on Saturday afternoon. She was just finishing chapter seven when she heard someone cursing from the kitchen. She placed her bookmark between the pages to mark her stopping point and got up to investigate. She walked down the short hallway that led to the living room and knelt down on the couch so that she was able to peer through the window that looked into the kitchen.

"Are you making macaroni and cheese?" Rory asked her roommate.

"No, I just saw that Bill Nye episode where he talked about starch and wanted to try it for myself," Paris Geller said sarcastically. "I am _trying_ to make mac and cheese."

"Why?" Rory asked.

"Because I really love the stuff and it's truly unfair that I only get to have it when you're hung over. And considering you haven't had a messy relationship that leads you to drink excessively in quite a while I took it upon myself to make some," Paris answered matter of factly.

"I'd be offended by your justification if it weren't true," Rory said. "Why don't you just make it from a box? It would be much faster and easier, hence the name instant."

"You'd like me to take the easy way out, wouldn't you? You make the suggestion as though I don't know how to melt cheese. I went to Yale you know, I think I can handle it," Paris stated hotly.

"Have it your way Geller. How has your week been? You got home pretty late every night this week."

"Things are getting crazy. It's only a midterm election year, but the party is already planning fund raising events for later this year. I don't know when I'll ever get a break. When I'm not schmoozing and networking I'm researching court cases for the firm. This internship will be the death of me. Mark my words."

"I'm sure it'll get better eventually. Summer will be here before you know it," Rory reasoned.

"I'm glad you can be so calm in my time of frenzy," Paris said dryly.

"It's a gift."

"What about you? How was your week?"

"Lousy. I rear ended someone on Wednesday, so I've been taking the bus to work, I couldn't find the right angle for my last article, and yesterday I was given a lame assignment. I have to go to a concert next week Friday and write a review. A review that will probably wind up on page 10. Next to the gossip column."

"Don't complain to me about your less than satisfying job, Rory. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times that you should seek employment elsewhere. But do you ever take my advice? No. You stay where you're comfortable and unchallenged. You stay where that man who has the audacity to call himself an editor can keep an eye on you."

"Thanks for the lecture, but you can save it. There's nothing out there for me; I'm perfectly happy where I am."

Paris said nothing to this, opting instead to roll her eyes and scoff.

"So, do you have any plans for the night?" Rory said, fishing for a topic change.

"Yes. I happen to have a date with Antonio Banderas."

"_Evita_?"

"No. _The Mask of Zorro_."

"Ah, have fun with that."

"What about you? Are you doing anything, or will you be joining us?"

"Us?"

"Me and Antonio. Don't you pay attention? You have the memory of a fish."

"I can't join you, I'm going out tonight," Rory answered casually.

"Oh really? With whom?"

"No one of consequence. Go back to your cheesily delicious meal now."

Rory got up off of the couch and went back to her room. She hadn't told Paris about the dinner with Tristan because she didn't want to make a big deal out of it. She especially didn't want Paris to interrogate her if it turned out that it wasn't even a date.

She sat down on her bed upon returning to her room and thought about starting chapter eight, but changed her mind and decided to find something to wear to dinner. She opened her closet and stared at the clothes hanging within. What does one wear on a non-date? Heck if she knew. She proceeded to try on a number of outfits. She was unpleasantly surprised to find that several of her outfits no longer fit her in all of the right places. She really started to worry when she looked at the clock sitting on her night stand and saw that it was 6:30. She put on a light blue skirt that flowed in the wind prettily and a white blouse that didn't show too much skin. She went into the bathroom next door to apply her make up. Afterwards she went back into her room to grab her purse and a jacket. She was checking herself in the mirror when she once again heard a commotion in the front room. She glanced at the clock again and her eyes widened when she read 6:58 glowing in red.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Tristan had been staring at the door for five minutes. He read the numbers on the piece of paper Rory had written her address on and checked the numbers on the door for the fourth time. 201. There was nothing complicated about these three numbers. He was just trying to calm himself before he knocked.

"Just do it, you idiot," he said quietly to himself and took the plunge. He knocked three times and waited nervously. Then, it happened: the door swung open.

"DuGrey? What the hell are you doing here?" asked the woman in front of him.

"Paris?" Tristan frowned in confusion and looked down at the paper in his hands again. He had read it correctly; he was at the right apartment. So what in the world was Paris Geller doing here? Then his heart fell to the pit of stomach as comprehension donned on him. Rory had clearly set him up. He looked around wildly as if she might be off in a corner laughing at his falling for her joke.

"What in God's name are you looking for?" Paris asked, now slightly concerned for the man.

"I should have known," he said, ignoring her question completely. "She agreed to this way too easily. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Are you lost? I'd really like to help you out, which way did you come in?" Paris said in mock concern.

"Maybe you're a victim of the prank too!" Tristan said madly, once again ignoring Paris' questions.

"Tristan, shut up! I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not sure that _you_ do either. Who are you looking for?"

"Rory Gilmore," he answered. "We're supposed to have a date tonight."

As soon as the sentence was out of his mouth, the brunette in question walked into the room. Relief washed over him. She strode up to the two of them and smiled.

"Are you ready to go?" Rory asked Tristan, paying no attention to an extremely put out and befuddled Paris.

"Yeah. Wait, you live with Paris? But—," Rory cut him off before he could finish.

"I'll tell you all about it later. Are those for me?" she asked him, pointing to a bouquet in his hand.

"What? Oh, yeah. Here," he said as he handed her the bouquet of assorted flowers. "I didn't know what kind you liked, so I got a variety."

"Thank you, they're beautiful. Paris, could you put these in some water for me? I'd really appreciate it. I'll be back later; you don't need to wait up for me," she said before turning her attention back to Tristan.

"Shall we?" Tristan asked.

"We shall. Bye Paris, enjoy your movie."

"Yeah, bye Paris," Tristan added.

Tristan and Rory closed the door behind them without noticing the look of udder bewilderment on Paris's face. She unceremoniously dropped the flowers on the kitchen table and went on a feverish search for the phone.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTT

"I am _so_ sorry about that," Rory apologized when she and Tristan were both seated in his newly purchased car.

"It's okay. I think I played it cool," Tristan said, trying to sound convincing.

"Really? Because what I walked in on did not look cool," Rory teased.

"Well I had a good reason! I thought you gave me Paris's address instead of your own as a practical joke. I fully thought that you hoodwinked me to get out of our date."

"Now why would I do such a thing?" Rory said innocently, strangely pleased that this was in fact a date. All of that worry for nothing.

"If you thought that I'm the same person I was back in high school, then I wouldn't have blamed you. But I can honestly tell you that that scoundrel no longer exists. It's been a long time since I last ravished a girl up against a bunch of lockers to make a different girl jealous."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. There was not a single locker in sight the last time I ravished a girl."

"That's good, I'd hate for her hair to get stuck between the lockers."

"How considerate of you. Enough small talk, you owe me an explanation. Why do you share an apartment with Paris Geller of all people? The match seems as likely as Headmaster Charleston and your mom."

"Ew, don't say that! I just had a mental image. Now I'm going to have nightmares. But to answer your question, Paris and I went to college together."

"She got into Harvard after all?"

"No, she did not. But she did get accepted to Yale, as did I. And she, like me, decided to reside in a New Haven dorm. The same dorm room, actually. Now we share an apartment," Rory explained as though this were the most natural thing in the world. Tristan, on the other hand was still reeling.

"You and Paris? Dwelling in the same apartment? In the same state for that matter. I guess stranger things have happened," he reasoned.

"Yeah, like us going on a date," Rory supplied.

"Exactly. This is a day for all sorts of odd findings and happenings."

"This is true. So where are going for this date anyway?"

"Just a restaurant over on Elm, nothing fancy, McLean's. Have you ever been there?"

"No. I've been past there though. It looks quant. That's why I like it here in Manchester; it's not as big as Hartford. It almost reminds me of Stars Hollow. You just can't beat small town charm."

"You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl," Tristan said as he turned down Elm Street.

"That's right," she said as Tristan parallel parked on the downtown street.

"Impressive," Rory commented his parking skills.

"I passed the parallel parking section of my driver's test with flying colors, thank you very much," Tristan said proudly. He got out of the car and walked around to help her out of the passenger side. He led her to the door and opened it for her. When Rory got a good look at the restaurant she saw that it indeed was not fancy. This made her feel immensely relieved. It wasn't that she would have hated going to some high class fancy schmancy eatery. This was just more her element. It was when Tristan walked up behind her that she noticed the odd behavior of the other customers around them.

"Tristan, why are they all staring at us?" she whispered.

"They're not staring at us; they're staring at you. They know me here. They just want to see who I brought . . . you know, to see if you're good enough for me."

"Good enough?" Rory whispered frantically. She had not signed on for this.

"Don't worry, they'll forget we're here after a while, just come sit over here," he led her to a table for two next to a wall where the on lookers couldn't gawk at them.

"You are _so_ going to pay for this," Rory said. "If you think your small town has a quirky populace you just wait! You have nothing on Stars Hollow. The people there are complete kooks! They will eat you alive."

"I look forward to it," Tristan replied, amused. Clearly she thought this evening would go well enough that they would see each other again, and in her home town, no less. He wasn't going to complain about that. Just then their waitress walked over.

"Good evening, Tristan," she said affectionately. "Who's this? You never bring guests around here."

"Rose, I'd like you to meet Rory. She's an old acquaintance from high school. She was nice enough to agree to have dinner with me tonight," Tristan explained to the middle aged woman in front of him.

"Hello Rory. Sorry about all of the attention you got back there. We just like to watch out for your young gentleman friend."

"That's probably a good idea. He always did need someone to keep him in line back in the day," she said playfully.

"Oh, he's perfectly tame, we just don't like to see him alone all of the time," Rose explained.

"Tristan, alone? I don't believe that for a second, he was always quite the player," Rory said.

"Sorry to interrupt you talking about me as though I'm not here, but how about some menus?" Tristan asked.

"Sure, sure. Here you go. I'll be back to get your orders in a few minutes."

"Thanks Rose," Rory said as the waitress walked away. "She seems nice."

"Most people around here are. That's why I decided to reside here. It's pleasant," Tristan said. "So where do we begin? From Act Five of _Romeo and Juliet_ or what I like to call the College Years?"

"I'd hate for you not to know how the play ended. Paris didn't dress up as Romeo for nothing you know."

"Paris took my part? So the real reason you two live together comes out at last! You're involved," Tristan leered.

"Oh shush. She didn't even kiss me for real until three years after that."

"Care to elaborate? Because there's a permanent image in my head now."

"You know how it goes, spring break in Florida, a run in with Madeline and Louise. But that's not until later. We're not starting with the College Years."

"Alright, I suppose I can wait. Continue."

"After you left things were better between me and Paris. I guess she thought you were one less thing I could take away from her, which is completely ridiculous."

"Not really. I would have had you if I wasn't such an ass and if you weren't hung up on the stock boy. She would have been jealous and would have given you hell. It's probably best that I got sent away when I did. But enough about me, go on."

"Okay. Oh, that reminds me, I did get a different boyfriend senior year. But it's probably better that it didn't work out since we're step cousins now."  
"No more Stock Boy. That's good to hear."

"Well, not exactly. He comes up again later," Rory said.

"He's like a cold I can't get rid of," Tristan groaned. Just then Rose returned to take their orders. After they told her what they wanted Rory finished talking about events that occurred during senior year.

"Why did you decide to go to Yale instead of Harvard?" Tristan inquired.  
"I made a pro and con list. Yale had way more pros in the end. Plus it was closer to home. I'm only slightly embarrassed to say that my mom stayed with me my first night in the dorm."

"That's really sad Rory," Tristan said in a patronizing tone.

"Hey, we're really close! And she's my mommy. I'm tired of talking. You take a turn and talk about military school."

"Fair enough. I guess we should start with the safe," Tristan said thoughtfully.

"Not so fast bucko. Start with your behavior at the beginning of junior year," Rory cut in. By this time their food had come and they were digging into their burgers and fries.

"Ah, the source of my entire transformation. My mom left," he said simply.  
"What do you mean left? Certainly not left, I mean, she's your mother," Rory said, suddenly very sympathetic for the blonde in front of her.

"To be more specific, she left my dad. But she left me and my brother in the process. She was a trophy wife, plain and simple. My dad didn't take much notice of how she occupied her time. She was just supposed to be there when he needed her to organize events or go to social gatherings. He never saw her as his equal partner in life and she was sick of it. So she left," he said with practiced indifference.

"Tristan, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that you were going through that when we were seventeen," Rory said compassionately. She reached across the table to put her hand over his.

"It's not your fault. I didn't really make it public. Just look at what Paris went through with her parents. I didn't want that to happen to me, so I acted out. I figured that if I was being deviant then people wouldn't notice what was going on at home. Plus it really ticked my dad off, which was a bonus for me. I was really angry then. I didn't know who to hate more: my mom for leaving us, or my dad for driving her to it. Proximity to my dad meant that he got the blunt end of the sword. After I sifted through the safe he didn't know what to do with me any more. So he shipped me off to North Carolina, it was his simple solution."

"That's an awful thing for parents to do. Both of them. Your dad had no right to send you away just because he screwed up his marriage; and what kind of mother leaves her children?" Rory said in a defensive tone.

"A neglected wife, that's who," Tristan answered bitterly.

"So that's why you got sent away. And here I thought you were just some juvenile delinquent," Rory tried to joke.

"In a nut shell, yes. I spent the whole trip down to North Carolina brooding and feeling sorry for myself. But then I had an epiphany of sorts. I realized that I was going to a place where no one knew me. I could be anyone I wanted to be. I got to be hundreds of miles away from my dad as well. And when I got there an odd thing happened."

"What was that?" she asked him.

"I had a clean slate. No one cared who my family was or what my last name was. I made a few good friends and actually applied myself in school. The single best part of being in North Carolina was the distance from Hartford. I graduated a semester early and went to Indiana University."

"Oh my. That's so far from here. I can't even imagine being that far away from my family," Rory said in awe.

"That's the difference between your family and mine. I'm sorry; I've cut into your college stories. You wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes for me to pay and then we could go for a walk and continue?"

"Oh, no, go ahead," Rory said as Tristan got up to pay for their food. Rory left the tip and met Tristan at the front of the restaurant.

"Hey, I paid the tip," she informed him.

"You didn't have to, but thanks. Are you ready to go then?"

"Yes. Lead the way. I know you're dying to hear about my post high school shenanigans."

"Well when you put it like that," Tristan said as he steered them out the door.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Two and a half hours later a street lamp was flickering over a children's playground. It was empty apart from two figures who were each sitting on a swing. Tristan and Rory had arrived there earlier after having abandoned their walk. They each found a swing and were swaying from side to side absentmindedly as they conversed. They had long forgotten their previous discussion of days gone by and instead jumped from topic to topic without any concern about how they got from one to the other. It was discovered that Tristan lived within ten minutes of Rory and had happened to be using a different route because of a detour the day that Rory rear ended his car.

At half past eleven it was Tristan who said he would turn into a pumpkin if he didn't get home soon. They walked three blocks back to his car and Tristan drove through the city streets back to Rory's apartment. It was when they were walking up the stairs of her apartment complex that Tristan broached the subject of meeting again.

"Are you doing anything next Friday night?" he asked her.

"Friday, let me think. Oh man, I have a dull concert to go to in Hartford. I have to write a review for the paper. I really don't want to go; I hate getting assigned these sorts of things," Rory said, disappointed.

"What kind of concert?" Tristan inquired.

"Classical probably, I kind of stopped listening during the meeting that I got the assignment. The details are a bit sketchy."

"Classical music not your style, huh?"

"Not really. Luckily I reviewed the fine arts in college. I was pretty brutal too. I almost feel sorry for the poor chump; he won't know what hit him. Or her. I should probably start paying attention when my editor talks," Rory contemplated to herself.

"It might help you in the future."

"What are you doing Friday?"

"I actually have to work late that night, but I was wondering if you would want to get together for coffee or something," he explained.

"Why don't I call you when the concert is over? Where do you work?" she asked as they arrived at her door.

"I teach a few history classes at the University of Hartford," he answered nonchalantly.

"You teach at a university?" Rory asked in skepticism. "Aren't you too—,"

"Attractive?" he supplied before she could finish. He took a step closer to her and leaned in closer to make up for their height difference.

"I was going to say young," she said, not moving back. She was moving to close the distance between them when the apartment door of 201 swung open for the second time this evening to reveal Paris.

"I thought I heard voices," Paris said as though she hadn't noticed what she had interrupted.

"Are you sure they weren't in your _head_?" Rory asked, sounding scandalized.

"Of course not," she said, completely unfazed. The three of them stood around the doorway awkwardly, Rory and Tristan looking perturbed this time around.

"I should go," he said to Rory.

"Yeah, I don't want to have to make pumpkin pie out of you," she said, trying to lighten the mood that Paris had spoiled. Tristan gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked back down the hall. Rory watched him go before letting Paris drag her inside their apartment for the cross-examination.


	3. Perfect Crime

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter** **3**: Perfect Crime

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Perfect Crime**

On Tuesday night there was a pounding coming from Rory's apartment door as she quickly crossed the room.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she yelled. She opened the door to Lorelai, Luke, and their four year old son, Jeremy. They all greeted each other cheerfully and moved into the living room to sit.

"Here are the keys to the jeep," Lorelai said, handing her daughter the keys to the vehicle. Rory had called Lorelai over the weekend to request the temporary use of the jeep. Lorelai agreed under the condition that Rory give all of the particulars about her date with Tristan. Rory had agreed, as her need for wheels was great. "Make sure I get it back all in one piece."

"Yes ma'am, and thanks for letting me borrow it. Hey, maybe now you can buy a Volvo and become a soccer mom," Rory suggested innocently.

"Clever girl. When are you going to get a new car?"

"I'm not sure, the sooner the better though. I can't keep taking the bus, I feel like I'm at Chilton all over again."

"Speaking of Chilton, how was the non-date with your gentleman caller?" Lorelai asked smoothly.

"Hey, Jeremy, I think Paris has some candy hidden in her room, do you want to go with me to look for it?" Rory asked her little brother, dodging her mother's query.

"Yeah!" the dark haired boy answered zealously and got up to follow Rory into Paris's bedroom.

"You can run, but you can't hide," Lorelai yelled after her as they disappeared around a corner.

When the two returned, Jeremy had a bag of Skittles in his hand; his mouth was full of the colorful candy. He took a seat next to Luke on the couch and offered some of the candy to his father, who declined.

"Terrific, now he'll be bouncing off of the walls all night," Luke said gruffly.

"He shouldn't be any worse than mom on a normal day," Rory reasoned.

"True," he concurred.

Lorelai stuck out her tongue at the two before turning her attention back to Rory.

"So?" she drew out the word.

"So what?" Rory asked guilelessly.

"How was the date? Did you find out if it even _was_ a date?"

"Yes, it was a date; and it was fine."  
"Fine as in you didn't have to gouge your eyes out? Or fine as in you'll be seeing him again?"

"The later. We decided that I will call him after I get out of the concert Friday night because he has to work late."

"Who works late on a Friday night?" Lorelai asked warily.

"People who are dedicated to their job I suppose."

"If you say so," she said, not altogether convinced.

"I do say so. Do you guys want to go out and get something to eat, I'm starving."

"I could eat," Lorelai answered. "Boys?"

"Famished, let's go," Luke answered for himself and his son, whose mouth was too full to answer on his own.

The family spent the rest of the night enjoying each other's company, albeit Lorelai harassed Rory mercilessly for details about her date. Luke finally had to tell her to give it a rest if she didn't want her coffee supply cut off, to which she grudgingly complied to. When they were finished eating, the Danes made the journey back to Stars Hollow while Rory went back to her apartment.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

At 7:53 on Friday night Rory sped into the city limits of Hartford in her mother's jeep. She had left her apartment late and would be lucky to get to the concert hall on time. She turned right down a city street and drove for a mile before turning left into the parking lot of the concert hall. She pulled into the first available spot she saw and shut off the engine. She grabbed her purse and hopped out of the jeep, pulling her press pass around her neck as she rushed into the building.

The attendants were just about to close the doors when she hurried into the theater. An usher handed her a program and led her to a spot near the stage. Rory sank down into her seat and began to take in her surroundings. She had a perfect view of the Steinway piano that sat at the center of the stage. She looked around to see that the theater was only two thirds of the way full. The audience was composed of many high class older people as well as several college aged kids. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves; to Rory's right there were two college girls who looked abnormally excited about the imminent performance.

The lights dimmed and the audience applauded, signaling that the performer had entered. Rory pulled out a notepad and a pen from her purse, poised to write. She looked back up at the stage to see the pianist straighten up from a bow. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw his face. That wasn't the pianist; that was Tristan! She looked around to the faces of her fellow audience members, but they were all watching Tristan with rapt attention. She looked down at the program in her hand and read: _The Hartford Patrons of the Arts proudly presents Tristan DuGrey_.

Tristan was the pianist!

Tristan walked to the piano and sat down at the bench. After a moment of reflection he brought his hands to the keys. His fingers began to dance over the keys with the ease of someone who had played for years. The first movement was a slow adagio. Every stroke of the key was lingered and deliberate. Rory closed her eyes and imagined a story being told by the music. She could picture a young couple, in love and happy. They were dancing on a beach during a summer sunset. Everything was cheerful and carefree. Then the second movement changed all of that. This movement was much faster and more forceful than the previous. Rory opened her eyes to see that Tristan was furiously pounding the keys. It caused her to wonder if he was mad at someone or something. His face was contorted into a glower which was expressed in the music he was creating. The music made her feel as though the couple from the previous movement were in a terrible argument. The man's harsh low tones were almost frightening and in contrast the woman's soprano answer was a sharp staccato. She could almost hear the waves crashing on the beach. As Rory watched Tristan in wonder she couldn't tell where he stopped and the piano began, as they were melded together as one. He slowly rocked back and forth with the rhythm. The third movement was like a calming of the storm; and the by the forth the couple was again united. When the piece was finished he stood up to take a bow while the audience applauded. He looked out into the crowd and Rory was grateful that he couldn't see any of the faces, what with the lights shining so brightly in his eyes. He then exited the stage.

He came back out after a moment and everyone applauded again. When the clapping died down he sat at the piano and started his Brahms piece. Rory would have been lulled to sleep by the soothing tones any other time, but tonight Tristan had captivated her. She watched in awe and admiration as he performed the second half of the concert as magnificently as the first. When he was finished with the entire program he stood up again to bow graciously as the audience applauded and gave him a standing ovation. He walked off of the stage just to return two more times to bow until the praises subsided. Rory regained her bearings as the lights turned back on and she collected her belongings. She was hoping to sneak out of the hall before Tristan could spot her, but one of the ushers met her at the end of her row. He smiled as she approached him and she felt somewhat better.

"Excuse me, but are you Rory Gilmore?" he asked her politely.

"Yes," she answered apprehensively.

"Mr. DuGrey wishes to speak with you," he said, much to her chagrin. "Please follow me."

"Does he normally talk with reporters?" she asked as they started to walk.

"Not usually. He seemed quite interested in speaking with you though."

"Oh. How lucky of me."

In a moment of sheer panic she entertained the idea of running in the opposite direction, but instead followed the usher out of the theater and down a long hall. He led her to a backstage practice room and left her at the door. Her heart was pounding in anxiety as she quietly opened the door and entered the room. When she stepped inside she saw another grand piano much like the one that was on stage; Tristan was sitting at the bench. He was bent over the piano, mindlessly playing a melody of his own invention. Before he was aware that he was no longer alone, Rory observed the jacket of his tuxedo and tie thrown haphazardly across a chair near by. Tristan had the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She did not want to disturb the sight in front of her, for it looked so peaceful and perfect. The familiarity of it was so surreal that she did not notice that Tristan was now looking up at her.

"Hey Mary," he said with a grin, startling Rory out of her reverie.

"Tristan, hi," she greeted him nervously.

"Fancy seeing you here," he commented as though he was talking about the weather.

"Yeah, well, I have to write a review."

"I know, you told me."

"Right. You said you had to work late. _Liar_," she said the last word contemptuously.

"I didn't lie; I just left out specific information. Furthermore, as you can see, I _did_ have to work late."

"But you said that you teach history at the University of Hartford," Rory protested, having found her confidence back.

"I _do_ teach history. Music history; as well as piano lessons," he said simply. "Sorry Rory, it seemed like the perfect crime."

"How so?" she inquired ardently.

"I may have hid it well, but I was a _bit_ flustered when Paris opened up the door. You forgot to mention that she is your roommate, so I forgot a few details about what I do. After you told me that you would be writing a little review about some poor chump who was giving a concert in Hartford, I took a wild guess that I might be the chump. Looks like I was right. Now we're square," he said in an unnervingly pleasant voice.

"How could you let me insult your career to your face?" she asked incredulously.

"You didn't insult me. You said that classical music is dull and not your style. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion; I wasn't miffed by yours at all," he said consolingly.

"Well _that_ makes me feel a lot better," she said sardonically.

"How about we go get that coffee we talked about and I'll explain it all to you. Then you can go back to insulting me on purpose," he said as she took a seat next to him on the bench.

"You still want to? Aren't you afraid that I might offend some other aspect of your life?"

"Nah, I can take it."

"Okay, let's go," she said. She started to get up, but he pulled her back down to the bench.

"Wait, don't you want to recreate anything while we're here?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That depends. Do you want me to run away crying?" she answered with a question of her own.  
"No," he answered quickly. His ego certainly didn't need an encore of _that_.

"Let's just save this for another time then."

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly. He allowed her to stand up and then followed suit. He grabbed his belongings from the chair and they exited the room together.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Ten minutes later Tristan was sitting across from Rory at a small table in a Hartford coffee shop.

"So, Tristan DuGrey: piano virtuoso. Care to illustrate how this came about?" Rory asked as she sipped her steaming hot coffee. Tristan contemplated the question for a few seconds before giving his answer.

"In Hartford high society, most homes contain a piano because it's a sign of class. Under the belief that they _have_ class, my parents own one. When I was little my mom got tired of hearing me banging on it, so she found me a piano teacher when I was five and I loved it too much to ever stop."

"Wait a minute, I just thought of something. That night at Madeline's party when I walked in on you sitting at the piano, you could actually play it? You weren't even playing a song!"

"You're a writer correct?" he asked her.

"Yes."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't recall you penning the great American novel that night."

"I guess you have a point," Rory admitted.

"Anyway, I told you that I graduated from military school a semester early before going to Indiana. I graduated with my bachelor's degree when I was 21."

"How?" Rory asked in disbelief.

"By flying by the seat of my pants mostly. I pretty much loaded every semester with as many credit hours as my advisor would let me. Including summers."

"That's insane. Did you have a life at all in college?"

"Not really. I had to practice three to four hours a day when I wasn't in class."

"Yikes."

"You can say that again."

"Yikes. What have you been doing between graduating from college and now?"

"After I got my bachelor's degree I went to the University of Paris to work on my Masters."

"Wow, you really know how to go the distance. Please don't tell me you selected this profession based on what your dad would like the least."

"I didn't. That doesn't mean he liked it at first. He did try to talk me into pulling some strings to get into Julliard, but I didn't want to. I wanted to go a school that would accept me based on my own talent, not who I knew. I hate the name game."

"So what are you doing now? For real this time, don't hold anything back."

"When I was finished in Paris the head of the music department at the University of Hartford contacted me about a vacancy he needed to fill, he was in a real bind. One of my former teachers had recommended me. Apparently he thought I was dependable."

"What happened to hating the name game?" Rory asked suspiciously.

"Hey, contacts I make myself are fair game. It's the ones that are made by my family members that I don't care to exploit. Anyhow, I teach music history three days a week at the university as well as piano to the music students. I also give private lessons on my own time when I'm not practicing and rehearsing for concerts," he explained, taking a long sip of his coffee. Rory sat in deliberation for a few moments, thinking all of this over.

"But wait, you're Tristan DuGrey, certainly you find time to please the ladies."

"Not actually. I don't have very much spare time. Moreover, I see no point of dating a bunch of girls when I know none of them will be the one," Tristan stopped as though realizing that he was still talking to someone.

"How could you know if a girl is the one or not if you never take the time to find out?" she questioned, her eyebrows furrowed.

"When I meet her, I'll know," he answered assertively.

"How very Sky Masterson of you," she said with a smirk.

"He had a good theory," he said with a smile.

"More like a cynical theory," she countered. "If you want to find happiness you've got to take a few risks."

"I told you about my parents. What if my dad's behavior is genetic?"

"It is not genetic, you are you own person, Tristan. Don't let that insecurity get you down."

"Rory Gilmore, are you encouraging me to date more?" he asked in mock astonishment.

"I'm just saying that at some point in your life you're going to have to lay your heart on the line. You'll be glad you did," she said wisely.

Tristan sat in silence for a while, thinking about what Rory suggested. They had both finished their coffee before he finally broke the silence.

"So am I getting a good review? Or did my deception cost me?" he asked, effectively changing the subject.

"I think you'll be alright. I should probably be getting home now. Paris will start to wonder where I'm at soon," she said, getting up and collecting her things. Tristan also got up so they could make their way to the door. He walked Rory to her vehicle and they stopped next to her door.

"Think about what I said back there Tristan. You've really changed; I think you've proven your right to be happy," she said as she opened her door. "And let me know how it turns out."

"I will, I promise. Bye Mary," he said as she got into the jeep and started the engine.

Tristan watched as the jeep drove off into the distance. He stood in the parking lot for a few minutes, staring down the road. He did a quick inventory of his life. He was content, he concluded. But what if Rory was right? What if there was more out there for him? He didn't want to look back years from now and regret things he hadn't done. Even more, he didn't want to get hurt. Loneliness he could handle. But broken heartedness didn't look especially appealing.

"You won't get hurt; but you won't get loved either," he said to himself before setting off for his own apartment.

Maybe there was something to this risk thing.


	4. Mama Kin

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 4**: Mama Kin

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Mama Kin**

1 Rory sat at her desk, typing away feverishly, only stopping now and then to look at her notes. She was writing her article for the next edition of the paper. Ever since she wrote the review for Tristan's concert she had more motivation at work. It was as though that assignment had pulled her out of the rut she had been stuck in. She stopped to read the paragraph she had just written when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called out unnecessarily, as her editor was already halfway through her door.

"Ace, what is this?" Logan Huntzburger asked, holding up the page of the paper that had her story in it.

"My article. Remember, you made the assignment for me to go to a concert and write a review. Don't tell me you forgot," Rory answered with forced civility, barley looking up from her computer.

"I asked for a review of the concert, not an article about the poor attendance of classical music concerts," he said in an aggravated tone.

"I just thought I would work from a different angle. It really is a shame that more people don't go to those kinds of concerts. I thought I would bring this fact to the public's attention," Rory justified. "And I _did_ write what I thought of the performance."

"Yeah, I read that. 'Beautiful melodies from an artist that deserves more recognition.' I've heard that this DuGrey guy is popular with the ladies as far as appearances go. I'm surprised at you, Ace. I thought you were more professional than to show bias because of the appearances of the people you write about."

"I'm biased because of his looks?" Rory cried incredulously, standing up to be eye level with Logan. "Mr. DuGrey happened to give an astounding performance. He deserves every compliment I gave him! I can't believe what you're accusing me of!"

"I don't have time for this any more today, Rory. Just remember that the next time I ask for something you don't go searching for angles where they don't belong," he said before exiting her office.

Rory sat back down in her chair, stunned and hurt. She looked back at the document on her computer before erasing everything that she had just written. In that three minute exchange she had fallen back into her rut. She would be listening to her angry music when she drove home after work.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The rest of Rory's week continued in a similar vain. The inspiration she had after writing about Tristan was dead. The weekend was the only thing keeping her going now. She and Paris were planning a trip to Stars Hollow to return the Jeep. Also, Luke had promised to help Rory pick out a new car and she jumped at the offer. Anything was better than being called 'little lady' by an obnoxious car salesman. Wednesday and Thursday passed by rather uneventfully and on Friday she left work early to meet Paris at their apartment. They quickly gathered their things and piled their bags into her mother's vehicle. Twenty minutes later they were pulling up to the historic house better known as the Danes residence.

"I still can't believe what Luke had to do to get this house," Paris commented as she looked up at the impressive brick house.

"Yeah, he really wanted it for my mom," Rory said.

"But to help build a house for that idiotic Kirk guy? What person in their right mind would do that?"

"Luke. And it was the only way Kirk would let Luke have the house after he got out of the contract he had signed with Taylor. And that, my friend, is why Kirk lives in the only mansion in Stars Hollow," Rory said as the two girls took out their suitcases and made their way to the door. Rory found the spare key in the reptilian holding place and opened the door. Luke and Lorelai wouldn't be home for a few hours, so the house was empty and quiet. Rory took her bag to her bedroom while Paris took hers to the guest bedroom that was unofficially her own. They then set out for the town to see what was shaking in Stars Hollow.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A young Korean woman sat at a table in Luke's diner, patiently drumming her hands on the table, because everyone knows that drummers can't sit still, and Lane was no exception to that rule. She was just about to ask Luke for an order of fries when the bell over the door sounded.

"Lane! Sorry I'm late," Rory said as she hugged her friend and sat down across from her.

"That's alright; I haven't been waiting very long. How have you been? I haven't seen you in _so_ long."

"I know; we got really bad about the correspondence thing in the last few months. I am so disappointed in us," Rory lamented. "But I guess that's what I get for being friends with a big rock star."

"I am _hardly_ a big rock star. A medium sized star perhaps, like the sun, but not a big star."

"And so modest."

"Hey, I thought Paris was coming. Where is she?" Lane asked, looking around.

"We went for ice cream about fifteen minutes ago and she's still harassing Taylor about policy issues."

"That explains why Luke has that look in his eyes."

"What look?" Rory asked, craning her neck around.

"He's staring over at Taylor's soda shop like it's Christmas day."

"He gets way too much pleasure from seeing Taylor being tormented."

"She still plans on being a politician some day I assume?"  
"Oh yes. After she decided to go into public office she took a leaf from Billy Madison's book and called everyone she had ever been mean to so she could apologize. You know, to butter people up to ensure their future votes. She refused to come out of her room until she was finished."

"She called _everyone_ that she was cruel to?" Lane asked skeptically.

"Yeah, or at least everyone she could think of."

"That must have been a really quiet year for you," Lane commented as Paris walked through the door. "Hi Paris," she greeted as Paris joined the two at their table.

"Hello Lane, it's nice to see you again. The government system in this town is ridiculous. Taylor is running a dictatorship, you know that right? The ordinances here are absurd." And thus began another rant from Paris about small town politics. Rory and Lane tuned out for a few minutes while Paris droned on. It was only when Lane took a sip of her beverage that something caught Rory's eye.

"Lane? What is that on your hand?" Rory asked in shock as she pulled Lane's hand to her to examine the sparkly piece of jewelry that resided on her ring finger.

"Oh, that's, um . . . a ring," Lane said, trying to play it cool, but failing, as she was smiling sheepishly.

"Is this what I think it is?" Rory asked.

"And what, prey tell, do you think it is?" Lane asked innocently.

"It looks like a wedding ring," Rory answered.

"It is!" Lane squealed, unable to keep her excitement in any longer. She stood up from the table so she could hug the two girls and jump up and down a bit. They had to settle down when Luke came over to tell them to be quiet and to get their orders.

"Lane, you have to come back and work for me again. The help I get these days is pathetic. I know you've been on tour with the band for a while, but I could double your pay," Luke offered with a pleading look on his face.

"Sorry Luke, no can do," Lane answered.

"I thought I'd try," he said before walking back to the kitchen.

"So Lane, getting back to you," Rory started, "when did you and Zach tie the knot? Weren't you two broken up?"

"I didn't marry Zach," Lane said, averting her gaze.

"Then who?" Rory asked, puzzled.

"Dave."

"Dave Matthews?" asked Paris.

"Dave Rygalski," Lane answered. On the other side of the table, Rory's mouth was hanging open in astonishment

"But you haven't seen Dave Rygalski since he left for California for college," Rory argued after she had regained her bearings.

"We finished up our tour in California. After our last concert we all went backstage and there was Dave. He heard that we would be playing in town and said that he had to come. Brian and Zach were ecstatic to see him again."

"Just Brian and Zach?" Paris asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I was happy to see him too, which is why I accepted to go out to dinner with him when he asked. It was like no time had passed at all. We still totally clicked. It was incredible. Then, two weeks ago we were feeling especially spontaneous, so we eloped."

"That's so exciting! How long had you been back in cahoots before eloping?" Again, Lane looked away.

"About two months," Lane said nervously.

"Two months!" Paris and Rory both screeched.

"Shhhh, Mama will hear you!" Lane said frantically.

"What do you mean, Mama will hear us? Please tell me you've told Mrs. Kim about this. Lane. . ." Rory groaned at the look on her friend's face.

"I haven't had the chance, I just got back today. When I got into town she was making a sale so I didn't want to interrupt her."

"Do me a favor. When you tell her, please wait until I'm out of Stars Hollow. In fact, give me enough time and I'll leave the country," Rory pleaded. "Because she is going to freak out."

"It won't be that bad," Lane tried to reason. "I mean, I know she said I could go to prom with Dave but we couldn't get married, but I don't think she was serious. Besides, that was years ago. . . Oh, who am I kidding? She's going to kill me!" She buried her head in her hands as Luke came back with their food.

"Hey, what's wrong with her?" he asked the other two girls.

"She got married without telling her mother," Paris supplied as Rory tried to comfort Lane.

"She knows that her mother is Mrs. Kim, right?"

"Apparently she forgot."

"Yikes. Keep me posted on how that turns out," he said.

"Sure thing," Paris said as Lane took her hands away to eat some of the food that was sitting in front of her.

"So what about the band? Are you guys still going to perform as a group?"

"Yeah. We're going to be doing some studio recording in New York for a while. And then Dave and I are going to write songs together."

"At least you have a plan," commented Paris before taking a bite of her cheeseburger.

"Tell me what's going on with you guys. I need something to distract me from my inevitable fate," Lane implored.

"Rory has a new boyfriend," Paris offered quickly.

"You have a boyfriend? That's great! Are you planning on marrying him in the next few weeks? Maybe if you get married we could divert the entire town so that no one would notice me," Lane suggested.

"Rygalski, I love you, but I'm not getting married. And I do _not_ have a new boyfriend. Paris is just fabricating for her own amusement," Rory said with a hint of warning in her voice.

"Sometimes legends are fabrications of the truth. So what's the true story? You can set the record straight right here," Lane reasoned.

"Fine, but there's no legend here. I went on a date with someone Paris and I went to high school with—,"

"Tristan DuGrey," Paris supplied, not skipping a beat.

"—after I ran into his car. He blackmailed me into it. I really didn't have a choice if I didn't want to pay for the damages to his car."

"Your first date in two years and it was blackmail? I should have known there were strings attached," Paris said. "But weren't you supposed to meet up with him after a concert last week?"

"Oh. That. Tristan _was_ the concert."

"What do you mean?" asked Paris.

"I mean that the performer was Tristan. He's a professional pianist and I had to review his recital."

"Why didn't he tell you that when you went out? It seems like the perfect time to mention it," Lane said.

"Because of a tiny mix up. He thought I set him up with Paris when she answered the door," Rory divulged.

"That explains why he freaked out when I answered the door. I thought he had gone insane or something. Did you see his reaction? It was actually comical before you told me why he was acting like that."

"So, how _was _he?" Lane asked with a wicked grin.

"Excuse me?" Rory asked in a mortified voice, blushing slightly.

"At playing the piano, geez; what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing. No, he was brilliant. He explained everything afterwards. I think the double talking jive is out of his system now."

"So you _did_ see him again."

"Yes, after the concert. We had a nice chat and I gave him some advice about dating. He's really changed since high school, he's more ambitious. We might even be friends now," Rory said, clearly pleased with herself.

"Let me get this straight. You went out with a great sounding guy, who is a musician, and you had a heart to heart before sending him on his merry way?" Lane asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"Yes."

"Huh."

"What?" Rory asked, now less sure of herself.

"Nothing, I just didn't realize that you were secure enough in the men's department to let one get away."

"I didn't let anyone get away! I just told him that he needs to take risks to be happy. What's wrong with that?" Rory said. She didn't miss the glance that Paris and Lane gave each other.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Paris answered. "We were just wondering when you were going to take your own advise. You're not exactly the picture of bliss."

"I'm fine. I really wish everyone would get off of my back about working for Logan. Yes, we used to date. And yes, we broke up. But that doesn't mean we aren't professional enough to continue with our daily lives," Rory fumed.

"We're not saying that you're unprofessional. We just think that you could do better," Lane explained. Her clarification was met with a few moments of awkward silence. Finally, Paris couldn't take it any more.

"I think I just saw Doose. I promised him that we would continue our conversation, so I'm going to do good on my word. Bye Lane, I hope I see you again before we leave. I'll see you at your parents' house, Rory," she said as she got up to leave.

"I need to go too. I should probably go talk to Mama. I can't put off my doom forever. When are you heading back to Manchester?"

"Sunday afternoon."

"I'll come by after church to say good bye."

"Okay. I'll see you then. Good luck with your mom."

"Thanks. See you later," Lane said, heading towards the door.

"Bye," Rory said. She sat at the table by herself for a while, sulking in silence. She finished eating and then headed for the Dragonfly to meet her own mother.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

There was a movie night at the Danes house Friday evening. They stayed up late watching _The Producers_. Then, carrying on with the Mel Brooks theme, they watched _Blazing Saddles_ and _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_. Lorelai sang and danced along every time the opportunity arose. Luke called her crazy and went to bed early so he could get up at the crack of dawn the next day to open the diner. On Saturday Rory read stories to Jeremy all morning. She only stopped because she had gone hoarse after ten stories. Plus, she noticed that he had snuck all three _Lord of the Rings_ novels in his stack for her to read. She felt that reading all of those in one day would be overkill. So in compromise, she took him to Luke's for lunch. Having Luke for a step father meant free food and neither Gilmore girl ever argued with that. In the afternoon Luke went with Rory to buy a new car. Unsurprisingly, Kirk was the salesman; albeit his lack of knowledge about automobiles _did_ hinder rather than help the process. They decided that an Audi suited her well and went back home for a big family supper.

The weekend passed all too quickly for Rory's taste and by Sunday it was time to head back to the real world. She and Paris had all of their belongings packed back up and loaded into the new car. They were all sitting around a table in the back yard, just having finished lunch, when Lane came around the corner of the house.

"Oh good, you haven't left yet," she said when she spotted Rory and Paris.

"I wouldn't leave without saying good bye first," Rory told her friend. "Besides, I want to know how it went with your mom."

"Since you brought it up, I hope you can make it back to Stars Hollow in three weeks. Mama is throwing an engagement party for us!" Lane said happily.

"A party? That's great, Lane!" Rory said before it registered. "Wait, what do you mean she's throwing you an _engagement_ party?"  
"I couldn't bring myself to do it, Rory. I started telling her about running into Dave and before I knew what I was doing, I was telling her that we're engaged. Then she started talking about a party and I couldn't tell her that we're already married," she explained. Rory was shaking her head in disbelief.

"So when's the wedding then? I better get to be a bridesmaid in this one, after all of the Kim weddings I have helped you get ready for, I think it's my right to help you get pretty for yours."

"It's in six months. And of course you'll be my maid of honor," Lane said gleefully.

"I'll mark my calendar."

"And you'll have to bring a date. I insist."

"I know who she can bring: her boyfriend!" Lorelai said as she came out of the house with ice cream and bowls.

"How many times do I have to tell you people that one date does not make someone your boyfriend? For the last time, Tristan is _not_ my boyfriend!" Rory exclaimed heatedly.

"Whatever you say. By the way, congratulations Lane; that's so great about you and Dave. He just showed up after a concert?" Lorelai asked.

"Yeah, it was so sweet! I can't believe that I'm a married woman! I'd better be getting back; Mama wants to pick out some Christian music for the party. I'll see you all in three weeks!" she said as she hugged Rory before running back around her house.

Soon after Lane left, Rory and Paris headed back to Manchester. They got back to their apartment and unpacked their bags. Rory was in her room separating her clean clothes from her dirty clothes when the phone rang. She picked it up after the second ring.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"Hi, is Rory there?" the caller asked.

"This is Rory," she answered.

"Hey, this is Tristan."

"Oh hi, how are you?"

"Fine, you?"

"Also fine," she said. There was a pause.

"Tristan?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you call for a reason?"

"Oh, yeah. You told me that I needed to date more and to let you know how things turned out, remember?"

"I _do_ remember. Did you take my advice?"

"I did. I went out on a first date with a girl and I'm going to ask her out again."

"That's great, Tristan! Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"I'm glad you think so," he said. There was another pause.

"Rory?"

"Tristan?"

"Would you like to go on a second date with me?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, more than a little stunned.

"A date. With me. As we've already gone on a first, this would be our second."

"But when I said that, I didn't mean—," she started, but he interrupted.

"You just said that any girl would be lucky to have me. You also told me that I should take a chance, and I'm taking a chance on you. I promise not to take you to any place where anyone will know me. This isn't blackmail or me coming clean about anything I was ambiguous about. This is me, Tristan, asking you, Rory, to go out with me. So what do you say?" he said all of this rather quickly. Rory hesitated before she answered, thinking back to her conversation with Lane and Paris at Luke's. On the other line, Tristan was holding his breath; sure he was going to be shot down.

"You're right, I did say those things. When did you have in mind?" she answered, much to his relief.

"This Thursday, I'll come by your place at 6:30," he said.

"I'll see you then. Good bye, Tristan," she said with a smile.

"Bye Rory," he said before they both hung up. Paris came in when she heard the one sided conversation end.

"Who was that?" she inquired.

"Tristan," Rory said with wonder.

"Well what did he want?"

"A second date. Paris?"

"Yeah?"

"I think Tristan might be my boyfriend." She sat, dazed for a full five minutes before she was able to continue her task of separating her laundry.


	5. You Could Be Mine

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 5**: You Could Be Mine

**Disclaimer**: I do own nothing.

**You Could Be Mine**

Tristan leaned back in his swivel chair and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at the clock to see that it was 5:15 and quickly scooped up the papers on his desk and placed them in his brief case. He stood up and slung his heavy bag of music books over his shoulder before tucking in his chair and turning off the lights of his office. He walked down the main hallway of the music building and out to the parking lot to his car.

Tristan had been thinking about this day ever since he asked Rory out over the weekend. After she had agreed he set to the task of deciding what they would do on this date. He was going on a date with Rory Gilmore and they both knew it. The only reason she agreed was because he had asked. That's all he had to do: ask. He was surprised that she didn't need more coaxing, especially after her initial hesitation. But she said yes, so tonight was date night. He already had in mind what they would do on their date when he asked her.

When he arrived in Manchester, he first went to the local grocery store to pick up a few things he needed. He quickly went down the aisles in pursuit of what he was looking for. After he had everything he needed he walked along the check out lanes to find the shortest line. Check out lane number three had a girl that had been giving him the eye ever since she started working there, so he opted for the lane with a slightly longer line to avoid her. He checked his watch as he walked out of the store. It was 6:00. He had a half an hour to get back to his place to change and drive over to Rory's. He was glad that he had chosen what to wear the night before when he couldn't sleep.

Tristan wasn't anxious about this evening at all. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Rory was sitting in her living room watching a rerun of _That 70's Show_. She was too preoccupied to notice that Kelso had just burned Fez beautifully when she heard three sharp knocks on the door. She turned off the television and moved to open the door to find a smiling Tristan.

"Hello, Rory," he said as he graciously handed her a bouquet. "Is Paris home tonight?" he asked, looking around the room.

"No, but I thought you were going on a date with _me_ tonight. You had your chance with her a long time ago and you blew it. You'll just have to settle for me."

"I don't want to go out with Paris and I am far from settling with you," he said, taking a step closer to her.

"Well in that case, thank you for the . . . broccoli?" she said as she looked down at what was in her hand. "Interesting choice, were they out of cauliflower?"

"I thought we'd stay in tonight. I'm going to cook you dinner," he told her and held up the paper bag he had in his left hand for her to see.

"You can cook?" she asked as she moved to let him inside.

"Yeah, can't you?"

"No. I have too many other talents to trouble myself with the culinary arts," she said in mock arrogance.

"It's a handy skill to have," he said, moving to the kitchen.

"Gilmore's don't have a knack for such things, we don't have the patience. It's a fact of life. Accept it and move on."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm going to have to teach you; I feel it is my civic duty. Trust me, it's not hard. It's like chemistry; you passed chemistry in high school, didn't you?" he said, leaning up against the pantry door that Rory was standing next to.

"Of course I did. I was valedictorian if you hadn't heard," she answered self-importantly.

"I had not heard, as a matter of fact, but congratulations all the same. Back to what I was saying, you just follow the directions and carry out the experiment. Chemistry."

"I might burn something," she pointed out.

"I find that practice makes perfect," he countered.

"What if I'm a hopeless case?"

"Pretend that it's for a grade and I'm sure you'll be okay."

"Fine, if you won't let this go, I _suppose_ I could allow you to teach me a thing or to about maneuvering around a kitchen."

"Good. And I'm sure we'll be able to work out some sort of method of payment," he said smoothly, causing Rory to roll her eyes at him.

"Are you going to make us dinner or are you just going to stand around?" she asked.

"I'm starting, I'm starting," Tristan said and moved to the oven.

"Which one of these knobs gets your oven hot?" he asked, looking at Rory, who blushed in response.

"Um, that one," she said, pointing to one of the dials.

He turned on the appliance, but after ten minutes the oven still hadn't warmed up. He turned to Rory to deliver the verdict.

"I have good news and I have bad news," he told her.

"Give me the bad news first, I can take it," she said bracingly.

"Your oven is shot. The good news is I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to GEICO," he said in a serious tone. Rory gave him a questioning look, boarder lining incredulous.

"I'm kidding. The good news is that I think it can be fixed so you won't need to buy a new one. Now, come with me," he said, throwing the broccoli into the bag he had brought and grabbed Rory's hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked, slightly alarmed.

"My place. Luckily it's clean and everything works," he explained as they moved to the door.

Ten minutes later they were outside Tristan's abode and he opened the door for Rory to enter first.

"This is it," he said as she walked into the living room to look around.

"Not bad. And surprisingly orderly. Let me guess, you have a maid?" she asked.

"Actually, no. I can pick up after myself," he answered wryly.

"You cook and clean; I bet you do your own laundry, too."

"Well I don't want some stranger touching my delicates," he said in a scandalized voice as he headed for his kitchen.

"I'd hire you," Rory commented.

"Oh, I have much more pleasurable services to bestow," he said slyly.

"I'll bet," she said with a laugh.

"Feel free to look around. I'll let you know when everything's ready."

"Ok," she said as she walked around the living room. There was a black leather couch and matching loveseat that faced a flat screen television on the opposite wall. Next to the couch there was a tall shelf with many movies and CDs. She noticed that his stereo was next to the shelf. She pressed the power button and jumped when the loud music assaulted her ears. "Oh my," she said as she turned down the Aerosmith that was emitting from the speakers.

"You were expecting Mozart?" Tristan called from the kitchen.

"Um . . . no," she lied.

"Uh-huh," he said, not convinced. "I happen to embrace many genres of music; except maybe gangster rap. I've been listening to Aerosmith's _Pump_ album all week. It puts me in a good mood."

"Steven Tyler's mouth is so big that it's hard to decipher some of the things that come out of it. It was years before I discovered that _Love in the Elevator_ is a dirty song. My mother was kind enough to enlighten me when I was in a freshman in high school."

"That was decent of her."

"Wasn't it though?" Rory said, taking a seat on the black leather couch. She was looking at a framed picture of a young family that was on the lamp table when something jumped down next to her.

"Oh my God!" Rory exclaimed as she stood up quickly.

"What's wrong?" Tristan said, hurrying from the kitchen. He smiled when he saw what she shrieked at.

"I see you've met Isolde," he said, moving over to the couch.

"You have a cat," Rory stated with wide eyes, staring at the orange cat that was meowing up at Tristan. He picked up a ball of yarn from under the couch and handed it to Rory.

"Here. Play with her for a while. And don't worry about her scratching you, she's been declawed," he said as he went back into the kitchen, where there was already a mouth-watering aroma wafting through the air. Rory unrolled some of the yarn and dangled it out for the cat to jump at.

"Tristan and Isolde, huh?" she said loud enough for Tristan to hear.

"Yup. Just like the opera. I couldn't resist; it was too tempting.

"I didn't know you were a cat person."

"Neither did I. In the winter I was coming out of the store down the road and there was this little girl with a box of kittens. She gave me a sob story about having to find homes for them all. Before I knew what happened I had an orange kitten in a shoe box when I got into my car," he explained.

"Aw, Tristan, I didn't know that you were such a softy."

"Oh, there are plenty of things you don't know about me."

"Something I'll have to work on if we're going to be a couple now."

"We're a couple now?" Tristan asked, hoping his ears hadn't betrayed him.

"I think that's what you'd call us. You did make that whole speech about taking a risk on me."

"Shwing," he said with a smile.

"Shwing?"

"Sorry, my brother came over Friday night and we watched _Wayne's World_."

"Is he a younger brother?" Rory asked after she had thrown the yarn across the room for Isolde and walked into the kitchen so that Tristan wouldn't have to talk so loud.

"No," he said, facing her, "I'm the little brother."

"You're close to him then?" she inquired.

"Yeah, we've always had a pretty good relationship. We were there for each other a lot when our mom left. I really let him down when I kept getting into trouble in high school. But he understood that I was upset about what was happening with our family. He's probably my best friend, now that I think about it."

"That's so sweet. I would have wished for a sibling to grow up with if my mom and I weren't already so close."

"So you're an only child?"

"I used to be. My dad had daughter with his neurotic ex-wife, and my mom had a son with my stepfather, Luke. And Luke has a daughter named April that he discovered only five years ago. So now I play big sister to April, Georgia and Jeremy."

"How old are they?"

"April turned seventeen this month, Georgia is nine, and Jeremy is four," she said with a smile. "When my mom told Luke that she was pregnant with Jeremy he didn't believe her at first."

"Why not?"

"Because she found out on April Fool's Day and ran to tell him. He thought she was trying to pull a fast one so he wouldn't fall for it," Rory explained, causing Tristan to laugh.

"When did he realize that she was telling the truth?"

"She got sick after drinking coffee one day. He couldn't deny it after that."

"I see," he said before checking the pots on the stove. "I think we're about ready to eat. Could you hand me a pot holder from that drawer over there?"

"Sure," she said and handed one to him. Five minutes later they were sitting down to their meal.

"Now it's nothing fancy, but it tastes good."  
"I'm sure it'll be delicious," she said, looking at the shrimp and broccoli fettuccine alfrado.

"I read your article about my concert," Tristan said as they both helped themselves to some of the pasta.

"Yeah? What did you think of if?" she asked, glad that he read it.

"I thought it was great. I really appreciated how you told people about low concert attendance. I thought it was a service to the performing arts. And the compliments sent in my direction didn't go unnoticed, thanks."

"No problem. If only my editor had the same opinion," Rory said, slightly frustrated.

"He didn't like it?"

"No. He only wanted the review, no other angles. He also said I praised you because of your physique," Rory said, trying not to fume. Tristan smiled at the last part.

"I'm getting the idea you don't see eye to eye with your boss."

"No. Not any more," Rory said, looking down at her plate.  
"Did you at one time?" Tristan inquired.

"Oh sure, when we were dating."

"You used to date your editor?"

"We dated college. When he graduated, his father, Mitchem Huntzburger, put him ahead of the _Journal Inquirer_ as his first responsibility. Logan isn't crazy about inheriting the family business in the newspaper world, so he's been mad at Mitchem forever. He hired me when I graduated to tick off his dad," Rory explained.

"Why would that upset him? You've always been a great writer," Tristan's last statement caused Rory to give a snort of disgust.

"Mitchem Huntzburger doesn't think so."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story," Rory sighed.

"Humor me."  
"I went to dinner one night with Logan at his family's house and they treated me like dirt. They said I wasn't good enough for him; I wasn't what he needed. To make up for their rudeness, Mitchem offered me an internship. I thought it was going great, but he told me that I didn't have _it_," Rory said, dejected at the memory.

"I'm sure everyone knows that's crazy. You didn't think anything of it, did you?"  
"Of course I did. He's Mitchem Huntzburger! It would be like Beethoven coming back from the grave just to tell you that you should use your piano as fire wood."

"We could roast some serious marshmallows over that fire. But it's not like Beethoven is my favorite dead composer. I think you gave this guy way too much credit."

"That's not my point, Tristan," she said with a sigh.

"Sorry; so you let it get to you, what did you do then?"  
"I had a break down. I quit school after getting arrested for stealing a yacht," she said. This caught Tristan's attention and his head jerked up to look up at her.

"You're just pulling my leg now."

"No, I'm not. Logan and I stole a yacht the day that his dad 'did me a favor,'" she said, using air quotes. "I was arrested and had to do 300 hours of community service. I decided to take time off from school after that. My mom wouldn't let me hang around Stars Hollow, so I lived in my grandparent's pool house and my grandmother found me a job in the DAR office; I had to join the DAR! I was alienated from my mom for a few months. She felt like my grandparents had ganged up on her."

"You stole a yacht." Tristan stated in disbelief.

"I stole a yacht," Rory confirmed.

"At least I only went through a safe."

"Let's not compare felonies," she pleaded.

"I just can't believe you've been arrested. You're such a bad girl, Mary."

"I am not! I was just going through something," Rory protested.

"Yeah, someone else's yacht," he said with a smirk. "You went back to school though, right? You said you graduated."

"Yes, I went back in the spring."  
"When did you go back to being the Rory Gilmore everyone knows?"

"My ex-boyfriend, Jess came to visit me and to tell me that he had written a book."

"Wow, that's quite an accomplishment."

"It really is. He criticized how I was living my life and I saw that he was right. I suddenly realized that I was becoming Emily Gilmore. I had become what my mother ran away from. All of a sudden I couldn't handle the façades that everyone else in my grandparent's world works so hard to keep. And what was worse was that I had gained one too. I had to get away to be myself again. So I got a job at the _Sanford Gazette_, where I did my internship and went back to Yale."

"What about you and your mom? Did you kiss and make up?"

"Yeah. She was relieved when I went back to Yale. She was devastated when I left. She felt like I was throwing away everything we had worked my whole life for."

"Did it feel good to go back to school?" he asked.

"Definitely. My life had direction again. My new goal was to show Huntzburger that he was wrong about me. When I graduated, Logan offered me a job. I thought that it would be a great opportunity to show Mitchem what I could really do, plus Logan and I were still dating, so I took the job."

"If you don't mind me asking, why didn't things work out between you?" Tristan inquired.

"When we were together I thought we were going to get married. He was so exciting and spontaneous, but things kind of fell apart when we started working together. After a while he couldn't take the pressure from his family. I wanted to be a career woman and Logan needed a wife who would be there when he needed her. You know, for parties and social functions."

"I do know. All too well," Tristan sighed.

"I couldn't be that person and I didn't want to be. Plus he'd only give me important articles at work when he wanted to make his dad mad. I got tired of being used like that. I decided that he wasn't worth the trouble, so we broke up. For a while it was awkward at work and he only assigned me things that he knew I would hate, but it's not as bad now."

"Are you sure? You didn't seem that thrilled when you were talking about writing a review of a concert before you knew that it was mine."

"I _had_ to make it sound like I didn't want to go. You were going to ask me out for that night."  
"Oh was I?" Tristan asked as they got up with their dishes and walked to put their dishes in the sink.

"Weren't you?" Rory asked, feeling silly now. "You asked if I was busy that night."

"Maybe I was going to invite you to come see me play."

"Oh," she said, looking down in embarrassment at her own presumptuousness.

"Rory," Tristan said, lifting her chin with his finger. "I wanted to ask you out again."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he said as he backed her into a corner of the kitchen. She was trapped on all sides now and her heart started to beat faster. Their breathing became shallow as Tristan leaned down. Rory stood up on her toes to meet him half way until her lips met his. The kiss started slow before it gained intensity. Tristan's hands moved to Rory's waist as hers slid through his hair. After a minute they pulled away for air.

"I was hoping that would happen eventually—not that I sit around thinking about you kissing me," Rory said quickly.

"Really, because _I_ sit around thinking about kissing _you_," Tristan said.

"Really?"

"Really really," he said before kissing her on the cheek and moving back over to the sink to start the dishes.

"If you help clean up I'll make sure that that kiss wasn't the last," Tristan said in a sing song voice.

"Well that's an offer I can't refuse."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

After Rory and Tristan had cleaned up the kitchen they went into the living room to watch _Singin' in the Rain_. For Tristan's sake, Rory refrained from swooning over Gene Kelly. When the movie was over he drove her back to her apartment and gave her a good night kiss.

Tristan walked back to his car, understanding why Don Lock would be so happy about pouring rain.


	6. Black Leather

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 6**: Black Leather

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Black Leather**

Rory strolled down a long row of bookshelves at the Hartford Public Library. She passed aged books that must have been published centuries ago along with newer books that hadn't been taken off the shelves very many times. Adventures yet to be had, as she liked to consider them.

Today Rory was on a mission and no library had ever let her down before. Libraries were her Mecca for information about everything and anything she could ever desire. She passed several large tomes before stopping to check their call numbers to compare them with the numbers she had written on her small piece of paper. She shook her head and continued her search down the next aisle. She checked the numbers again before pulling one of the volumes away from the others. It didn't have what she was looking for though, so she put it back and took down the next one.

"Eureka!" she exclaimed as she began to peruse the pages of the book. She started flipping through the pages before grabbing two more books off of the shelf. She couldn't balance the three books at the same time and the first one she had picked fell to the floor. She was about to pick the book back up, but someone else beat her to it.

"_A History of Western Music_, nice choice, though you might have better luck if you pinpoint whatever it is you're looking for and use the _New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians_," said the man, who looked remarkably like Tristan, except that he was wearing glasses.

"Tristan, what are you doing here?" Rory asked, slightly alarmed by his sudden and unexpected appearance. "And why are you wearing glasses?"

"Grading papers, I needed to check a fact. And I'm wearing glasses because if bats were blind I'd be as blind as one," he answered. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm doing some research."

"For an article?"

"No."

"What then?"

"I'm not going to lie, I'm trying to impress my boyfriend with my musical knowledge," she said, blushing, while Tristan set the books on a shelf.

"Do you really think he's worth it?" he asked with a smile, taking a step closer to her and taking the other two books from her hands and setting them on the shelf next to them.

"I have yet to decide that, but things are looking up," she answered matter-of-factly.

"I could help you with that decision," he said as he backed her into a shelf and kissed her squarely on the lips.

"Now that I've had time to ponder on it, I think he is definitely worth it," she said before putting her hands on the back of his head to pull him in for another kiss.

They were in this position when they were interrupted by a small girl.

"I found him!" yelled the girl to another girl, who came around the corner and looked exactly like the first girl.

"Oh goody, they found me," Tristan said sardonically to Rory after having pulled away from her at the sound of the girls, who were coming closer to them.

"Is there something you need to tell me Tristan?" Rory asked, eying him suspiciously.

"Rory, these are my nieces, Marietta and Louisa," he said, pointing to each as he said their names. "They're named for their great-grandmothers, although they sound like they fell right out of the _Sound of Music_. Girls, this is my friend Rory."

"Hi, how old are you?" Rory said, taking a knee to be at their level.

"Six, I'm older," answered Marietta importantly.

"Are you having fun with your uncle Tristan?"

"Yes, we always have fun with him," answered Louisa with a smile. Rory stood back up to talk to Tristan.

"What are you doing with six year olds at the library?" Rory asked him with furrowed brows.

"Baby-sitting," he answered. Rory gave him a look. "What? They like it here. You're not the only one in the world to like books you know."

"I know that," she hissed.

"They know I only need to be here a little longer. Then we're going to my place for the night. We're going to watch _The Little Mermaid_."

"How about I take them down the street to the park until you're finished grading papers?" Rory suggested.

"You really want to?"

"Sure, I can handle two six year olds. What do you say girls?" she asked, turning to the two.

"Yeah!" they chimed together brightly.

"Alright, I'll meet up with you in a little while," Tristan agreed.

"Great," Rory said before starting off in the direction that the girls were standing; she backtracked quickly to grab _A History of Western Music_ from where Tristan sat it.

After they had left, Tristan shook his head with a smile and went back to his work.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Tristan wrote a big red letter B- on the last paper and placed it on the stack with the others. He put the whole stack of papers into his briefcase and got up to leave the library. He walked outside and had to squint from the bright sun. He threw his briefcase into his car before walking down the sidewalk to the nearest park.

He found Rory with Marietta and Louisa eating ice cream cones while sitting on the merry-go-round.

"Where's mine?" he asked Marietta.

"You don't get one," she giggled in response.

"Are you ready to go to my house?" he asked the young girls.

"Yes," they said in unison. "Can Rory come with us?"

"I don't know if she wants to hang out with a couple of six year olds," Tristan explained.

"I'll come. I love _The Little Mermaid_ as much as the next girl," Rory said. "That is, if it's alright with you."

"I'd love to have you, let's go. Do you want to follow me in your car?"

"Actually Paris dropped me off here since she's doing some work in Hartford, so I'll ride with you, if that's ok."

"Sure thing, right this way," he said and escorted the three girls back to his car.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Twenty minutes later the group of four stood in front of Tristan's apartment. He unlocked the door for the girls and let them in before he followed. Rory walked in to find an oddly organized mess of blankets strewn about the room. Apparently, Tristan was playing fort some time this week and hadn't cleaned up the evidence. There was a large blanket thrown over his couch that stretched over to the love seat, which had been turned around to allow more room under the tent. There were clothes pins holding two smaller blankets together that had been placed over two chairs that Rory recognized from Tristan's kitchen.

"What is this?" Rory asked, turning to Tristan as he shut the door.

"A tent," he answered as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a tent to be sitting in a grown man's living room.

"Of course it is."

"It's for the girls; they like to sleep in it when they stay the night. It makes them feel like they're camping. And who knows how to make a tent better than their uncle who had a stint in military school?"

"Oh, well that's nice of you," she said as the two small girls slipped into the tent. "How often do they stay at your house?"

"Once a month. It's my gift to my brother and his wife. This way they get a night to themselves once in a while."

"That's really nice of you."

"Yeah, they like to go on dates just as much as the non-married do. I like to think that I was a contributing factor to their unborn third child," Rory just giggled at the claim.

"Is everyone ready to watch the movie?" Tristan asked.

"Yes!" all three girls chimed together. Tristan put the video into an old looking VCR while Rory found a spot on the couch. The girls were already positioned at the opening of their tent.

"Wow, I haven't seen a VHS in forever," Rory commented. "Does that mean it's one of the original copies of _The Little Mermaid_?"

"Phallic shaped castle on the cover and all," Tristan said with a grin. He fast forwarded through the previews and took a seat next to Rory on the leather couch.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Tristan heard a knocking sound off in the distance. He wondered what it was in a half-conscious state and rolled over, trying to ignore the noise. However, the knocking didn't stop; it did get louder and more insistent. Now he could hear his name being called as well. He reluctantly opened his eyes and realized what was going on. He hopped up from the floor and walked to his front door. He opened it to find his brother and sister-in-law standing there, looking disgruntled.

"What are you doing in there?" his brother asked impatiently.

"Sleeping. We all fell asleep watching movies last night," Tristan explained as he allowed the two to enter his apartment.

"Uh, Tristan, who is that?" the pregnant woman asked with annoyance in her voice, pointing to the young woman on the couch.

"That's my friend, Rory," he answered somewhat meekly.

"Could we speak to you in the kitchen?" the older blonde man asked as he pulled Tristan by the sleeve of his shirt into the next room.

"If you're going to have a date, do you think you could tell us so we could find someone else to take the girls for the night or let us reschedule?" Tristan's brother asked of him, incredulously.

"Listen, I was at the library last night with the girls and we ran into Rory. We invited her to come watch _The Little Mermaid_ with us. I swear nothing scandalous happened with your daughters around."

"Tristan, you are my favorite brother-in-law, and I'm glad you've finally found someone who's willing to date you, but you have to let us meet her before you let strangers around our children," Felicity stressed.

"Ok, I get it. I'm really sorry," Tristan apologized.

"Now that we've got the lecture out of the way, who is this girl?" Matthew asked inquisitively.

"Rory Gilmore, daughter of Lorelai, granddaughter of Richard and Emily Gilmore," Tristan answered.

"Gilmore rings a bell. We do business with him, don't we?"

"You'd know better than I would."

"How long have you been seeing her?" Felicity asked.

"Not very long, so don't embarrass me," he answered.

"And when were you going to tell us about her?"

"When I was sure you wouldn't scare her off," Tristan answered his sister-in-law. "We would never scare her off!" she protested. "Not purposely, at least."

"We're happy for you though, right Felicity?" Matthew said.

"Of course we are. We should all have dinner sometime! I'd love to have someone other than business men over for dinner."

Tristan stared. "You just said you wouldn't scare her off."

"Oh _you_," she said, giving him a poke in the ribs.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Rory could hear voices in the distance. She didn't want to open her eyes because she could tell the sun was shining brightly through the windows. She moved her hands to fluff up her pillow, but there wasn't one under her head. She grudgingly opened her eyes to see that her head was resting upon black leather. She didn't have anything made of black leather in her apartment. She laid in confusion for a few minutes before remembering that she was in Tristan's apartment; they had all fallen asleep watching Disney movies the night before. But whose voices did she hear coming from the kitchen? She realized that it must be Tristan's brother and his wife, picking up their daughters. And she was here lounging in the living room.

Mortification washed over Rory as she panicked. She didn't know whether to go into the kitchen to introduce herself or to stay here and pretend to be asleep. She quickly thought of the pros and cons in her head to decide which would be less embarrassing. Each argument had an impressive number of cons, she thought to herself. Did Tristan even want her to meet his relatives just yet? Sure, she'd met his nieces, but that wasn't the same as his brother, who was possibly his favorite family member. How was she going to make a good first impression if she'd stayed at his apartment over night with their children?

She was about to get up and go make an awkward introduction when she heard the people from the kitchen coming into the living room. For a fleeting moment she considered lying back down and pretending to be asleep until they were gone. But it was too late, the man and woman entered, followed by Tristan. For a second the four of them stared at each other before Tristan cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"Rory, this is my brother, Matthew, and his wife, Felicity," Rory got up quickly and shook hand with the blonde man and the brunette woman, Rory noticed that she was pregnant and remembered how Tristan had eluded to his brother and his wife expecting.

"It's nice to meet you both," Rory said. "I had fun watching movies with your daughters, though I wish we could have met under different circumstances, I'm sure this can't look good."

"Not entirely, but it's all quite forgivable," Felicity supplied. "You and Tristan can make it up to us by having dinner with us some time."

"Oh, well, sure," Rory answered, feeling a bit on the spot, looking at Tristan for help, but he was just staring at Felicity grimly.

"Great, how about Friday two weeks from now?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm heading back to my hometown, Stars Hollow, for my friend's engagement party that weekend."

"Another time then, no problem."

"Yes, definitely," Rory wished she could excuse herself and leave, but she remembered that she rode with Tristan the night before. Instead she went to the bathroom to compose herself a bit. When she returned, Tristan was the only one in the living room, cleaning up the blankets; the other four had left.

"Rory, I'm really sorry about that. Let me cook breakfast to make it up to you, and then I'll take you home," Tristan said.

"It'd better be something good," she told him, only half joking.

"Of course. How about pancakes?"

"Great. Could I have those pancakes with a side of pancakes?" she asked hopefully. Tristan looked at her with furrowed brows.

"Uh, sure," he answered, heading into the kitchen.

He whipped up breakfast quickly and they sat in the kitchen eating, talking amiably. Then they went to his car so he could drive her home.

"I really do have to go to my friend, Lane's, engagement party in a couple weeks. See, she actually got married to someone she dated back in high school. It was on a whim, I think. And, well, her mother is very strict and would flip out if she knew that they are actually married, so Lane said that they're engaged and that the wedding is in six months. She's going to go through the whole thing just to not get into huge trouble. And I was wondering if you'd want to go to Stars Hollow with me for the engagement party?" Rory said all of this very quickly and in one breath.

"Slow down Mary. Breathe. Of course I'll go along. It's only fair since you agreed to go to dinner with my brother and sister-in-law. I suppose I deserve it."

"That's right, you _do_ deserve it," Rory said, as though justifying it to herself. "But are you sure, my mother will be there along with the whole town. They'll be all up in your business."

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll survive."

They arrived at Rory's apartment and Tristan walked her to the door. He gave her a kiss before she slipped in, hoping against all hope that Paris was still asleep. Unfortunately for her, Paris was one to rise early.

"Where were you all night?" Paris demanded, walking into the living room. "Did you spend the night with Tristan? I knew you were having a dry spell, but I didn't think you'd hop into bed with Tristan DuGrey the first chance you got."

"I did not sleep with him, not the way you're thinking," Rory said indignantly. "He was baby-sitting his nieces for his brother—"

"—Mathew?"

"—Yes. We just fell asleep watching movies. Disney movies."

"A likely story," Paris said, trying to egg Rory on.

"Oh, get off it," Rory said. "You're going to have to behave if you expect me to take you to Stars Hollow with us for Lane's party."

"Us? Does this mean you asked Tristan to come along?"

"Clearly, now be gone, before someone drops a house on you too."

"Ah, because I'm the Wicked Witch of the West. Clever, like I've never heard that before," Paris said. "But nothing can get me down now; I can't wait to see what happens in Stars Hollow. I'll be sure to tune in."

Rory just scoffed and went off to her own room to change her clothes for the day and to worry about how the trip would go.


	7. Down on the Farm

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 7:** Down on the Farm

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Down on the Farm **

Paris drummed her fingers on the counter top with impatience. She checked her watch for the sixth time in ten minutes. Her bags were packed and she was raring to go. If only her roommate would get back with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend, Tristan. How weird was that? Rory dating Tristan; she could barely grasp the thought. Then again, it was probably just as hard to believe that the three of them were going to Stars Hollow together and willingly, no less. If only her sixteen year old self could picture this day. Oh, the irony!

The couple was supposed to meet Paris at their apartment and set off for the small town. They'd better not be doing the nasty, she thought with a shudder. She was about to open her cell phone and call her friend when the door burst open to reveal Rory and Tristan, smiling and slightly flushed in the face. Paris decided not to ask any questions, not wanting to hear the answers.  
"You're late," she said flatly.

"Only by ten minutes, calm down," Rory said.

"The whole schedule is off kilter now."

"Do you have a date waiting in Stars Hollow, Paris?" Tristan teased.

"Of course not. Not all of us go for the country bumpkins," Paris retorted. "I just don't want Lorelai to call wondering where we are. But no worries, now I'll just tell her that her daughter was having a nice after breakfast romp with the man she's about to meet."

Tristan sobered a bit. This was not how he wanted to be introduced to Rory's mother. Or any of the other people close to her. He needed to get off to a good start. The thought of going to Stars Hollow excited Tristan, but it also made him nauseous. He hoped no one remembered him from his last visit.

"Are you two ready?"

"Yes."

"No."

"How are you not ready Rory? You knew we were going for three weeks!" Paris exclaimed.

"I know, but I didn't have time to write a list of things I need to take. Just give me ten minutes," she said as she started for her bedroom. Tristan started to follow her but Paris stopped him.

"Not so fast Romeo, you're staying in here with me." Tristan sadly watched Rory as she retreated to her room.

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to know your intentions."

"What?"

"You heard me. If you think you won't be asked that at all this weekend then you better go back to your apartment and stay home for the weekend. These crazy people will be all up in your Kool Aid, so you'd better take this practice run with me. I can tell you what to work on before the real thing happens. And it _will_ happen."

"Paris, you're the crazy one. I don't have to tell you anything."

"Fine, don't do it as a practice run. Do it because Rory is my friend and I want to know what's going on inside your head. It might be hard for you to believe, but I care about what happens to her. And if you hurt her I will be on the list of the mob that comes after you. My torch is waiting in my closet."

"Simmer down, it's going to be fine," Tristan said soothingly. He took a deep breath and considered her question.

"What can I say? I haven't done a lot of dating lately. But Rory told me to take a chance and I'm taking one, on her. I don't want to hurt her any more than I want her to hurt me."

"Do I hear sincerity in your voice DuGrey?"

"Yes. I'm serious. This relationship is going great so far. I want to see where it leads us. This could be the start of something big."

"I'm proud of you, Tristan. You've done a lot of growing up."

"Military school and a few hundred miles away from Connecticut can do that to a person. Besides, how many chances am I going to get to date Rory Gilmore?"

Paris didn't say anything; she just beamed with her approval. A few minutes later Rory came back into the room with her duffle bag.

"I'm all ready, let's get this show on the road!" she said happily.

"Great, now we're 20 minutes behind schedule," Paris complained as they headed out the door.

The trio trooped down to Tristan's car. It had been previously decided that he would be the driver for the weekend. They argued about what music to listen to for half of the car ride, finally settling on Blondie.

Rory was surprised when she started to feel butterflies in her stomach. It had been a while since she last introduced a new guy to her family and friends. All of a sudden she felt like she was in high school again. She told herself that she had nothing to worry about though, and with good reason. Tristan was a completely new person compared to the immature boy she once knew. Besides, she thought, the people of Stars Hollow were reasonable people. Right.

The sign greeting the group to the small town appeared sooner than Tristan was comfortable with, to be honest. When the last road sign said that Stars Hollow was only five miles away, he began to worry about what Paris had said. He hoped the girls hadn't noticed his sudden quietness. His stomach started doing flip flops as Rory started pointing out landmarks to him. He remembered bits and pieces of the town, nothing much more than fragments. Rory gave him directions to the Dragonfly Inn, where he had a room reserved for the night. Tristan parked the car and sat, unable to move. Paris got out and walked away from the car without a thought.

"You know, I'm not sure if I prepared you enough for Stars Hollow. I mean, these people are great, but they're also nuts," Rory babbled uneasily.

"Should I go? We could do this another weekend," Tristan answered, half disappointed in them and half hoping he could peel out of the parking lot.

"I think we're overreacting here," Rory said, calming down. "Come on, let's go in."

Tristan pulled his duffle bag out of the trunk and paused for a moment to take a deep breath before following Rory up to the front door. He caught up to her and she took his hand. As soon as they walked through the door they got a view of the inn employees hard at work, carrying luggage and tidying up. They made a left and he caught sight of the brunette woman behind the counter. He had to fight the urge to turn around and run. Oh no! She was coming around to meet them!

"Mom!" Rory said happily as she hugged her mother. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Tristan DuGrey."

Tristan extended his hand to shake Lorelai's. He hoped that she wouldn't notice that his hands were getting somewhat sweaty.

"It's very nice to meet you Ms. Gilmore, oh, I mean Mrs. Danes, ah ma'am?" He cringed at his blunder.

"Relax, and please, call me Lorelai. Anything else will make me feel much older than I actually am. I'm glad I finally get to meet you."

"I've heard so much about you from Rory."  
"I hope I live up to the hype," Lorelai joked. "Why don't I show you to your room?"

"That would be great, thanks," Tristan turned to Rory with an exasperated look on his face.

"Don't worry, you did fine," she whispered in his ear as her mother led them upstairs. Tristan dropped his luggage on the floor and they all went back down to the lobby, where Paris was waiting. Not surprisingly, she looked irritated.

"So, what are you kids going to be up to this afternoon?" Lorelai asked the three.

"I'm going to show Tristan around the town, we'll hit the important spots. Paris, you're welcome to join us," Rory said.

"Thanks, but not thanks. I don't want to be the third wheel on this charming threesome. I'll find something to do on my own," she answered and headed for the door.

"Well alright," Lorelai said matter of factly, "I'll be here for a couple more hours, but then I'll see you guys at the house before the party?"

"Yes you will," Rory said with a smile. "Come on Tristan; I have so much to show you."

"It was nice meeting you Tristan."

"Yeah, you too," he said as they walked out the front door. As they disappeared out the door Sookie came hurrying up to the front desk.

"Are they here? I heard Paris, so I know they're here. What's he like? I want to meet him!"

"Sookie, you just missed them. But I'm sure you'll get another chance," Lorelai said soothingly.

"Well what's he like? Do we like him?" Sookie asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure yet, I just met him."

"Yeah, but you can tell, can't you? Sometimes you can just tell when you meet someone. I just want Rory to be happy. Oh! I have to go call Jackson!" Sookie said and ran back to the kitchen.

"I just want her to be happy too," Lorelai replied to the empty room with a sigh, gazing toward the door.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

An hour and a half later Tristan and Rory were sitting at a table near a window at Luke's, waiting for their orders to be taken.

"I still don't understand why we couldn't eat at Al's Pancake World, what's wrong with pancakes in the afternoon?" Tristan asked. "Do you have something against brinner?"

"I have nothing against brinner; it's just that Al only serves international food now. He gave up pancakes ages ago, everybody knows that!"

"My mistake, how could I have forgotten?" Tristan said. Rory looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're not afraid of meeting Luke are you?" Rory inquired.

"What do you mean, afraid? That's silly."

"Why else would you rather grab a bite at Al's than Luke's? You know how much I miss his food when I'm away. So, I just thought that maybe you were trying to put off meeting Luke."

"Well you know I was so smooth back there with your mom earlier."

"Don't worry about it; she knows you were just trying to make a good impression."

"What has Luke thought of your past boyfriends? I want to know what I'm getting into here."

"He didn't really like any of them."

"Wasn't one his nephew?" Tristan asked, confused.

"Yeah, that didn't mean he thought Jess was a great guy in high school."

"That makes me feel hopeful," Tristan said sarcastically.

"You'll be fine, I'm right here to break up the fight if he tries to sock it to you."

"Very funny."

"I wish I were kidding, but he really did get into a fight with Dean once when we were broken up."

"Dean had it coming, why would anyone break up with you?"  
"A story for another time, although I think you've already heard about half of it. Oh hey, here's Luke now," she said as her step-father came over to their table.

"Luke! I want you to meet Tristan."

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Good, good, you?"

"Fantastic, can I get you guys something?"

"Two burgers and two fries please," Rory answered, "Oh, and could I get some coffee?"

"No, we're all out," Luke said sternly.

"You're lying, come on, I'm a paying customer, you have to serve me what I want! The customer is always right!"

"First of all, you haven't paid in years and second, if the customer is you or your mother, there's a good chance that you're not right—and in her case, not right in the head." Luke said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

"You know, from that exchange, I wouldn't have guessed that you two were family," Tristan commented.

"Yeah, well, old habits die hard."

Five minutes later Luke returned with the food and a pot of coffee. He sat it down on the table with a thud.

"Tristan, will you be drinking this black death as well?" Luke asked.

"Uh, no, I'll just have some water if that's all right."

"See Rory, he drinks water, something that won't kill him," he said has he turned around to get Tristan his beverage.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Rory said, "And you're off to a good start just for passing on the coffee."

"Yeah, I guess that makes me feel a little better."

Rory and Tristan ate their meal and for the most part they ignored the townspeople who stopped to gawk at them from outside. When Miss Patty came in to introduce herself, Rory just bit her lip to keep from laughing while she flirted with an uncomfortable Tristan. When they were finished they continued their foot tour of Stars Hollow.

"There are a couple important places I want to show you," Rory said as they approached a decrepit looking building.

"This is the Independence Inn. Or, it was."

"It looks . . . crispy," Tristan said, pondering the burnt building.

"Yeah, there was a fire. Since Mom was going to start her own inn and the damage was so extensive the owner decided to sell the property. Opening an inn was Mom and Sookie's dream. The fire kind of expedited their plans. I brought you here because this was our first home when we came to Stars Hollow. Let's go look at the tool shed," Rory said eagerly. Tristan followed, though puzzled at her excitement over a shed. They walked around the inn and came to a small white building.

"We stayed in here. Mom fixed it up so it was great."

"She left her parents in Hartford for a tool shed?" Tristan asked, trying to understand.

"Yeah, she couldn't take being under my grandmother's control. I love my grandparents, but after living in the pool house I can see how she felt trapped."

"And here I thought I was clever going to colleges in the Midwest and Europe. I have nothing on Lorelai Gilmore."

"Not many do. Alright, I just want to show you one more place that we used to live and then we'll go to the current Danes-Gilmore home."

Tristan put an arm around Rory's shoulders as they walked away from the grim old inn and down the road to Rory and Lorelai's most recent former house. Rory explained how the house was still owned by her mother and how Luke had fixed it up; making sure it was up to code. Afterwards they went back to the main house and started to get ready for the party.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

At half past seven the engagement party was in full swing. Lane and Dave were seated at the center of the festivities, in the gazebo. Lights sparkled in the trees and the punch flowed freely. Rory added a gift to the table that was already overflowing with pretty wrapped packages and she and Tristan found a seat at an empty table.

"Wow, you guys really go all out for a party around here," Tristan observed.

"Yeah, you should have seen it when my mom and Luke got married. It was practically a holiday. But to be honest, Stars Hollow welcomes any opportunity for a large gathering. We thrive on festivals and parties."

"I believe you."

"Oh my gosh, Rory! You're here!" Lane yelled and ran over to the couple.

"And who's this you have with you?" she asked Rory expectantly. Rory was not impressed by Lane's feigned ignorance.

"Lane, this is Tristan; Tristan, this is my best friend Lane."

"Nice to meet you. Congratulations on the engagement," Tristan said.

"Thanks, I've heard a lot about you."

"I've heard a lot about you too, so should I actually say congrats on the marriage?" Tristan whispered. Lane covered her lips with an index finger and looked around very quickly.

"Thanks," she whispered, beaming. Just then Dave walked over to join them.

"Hey, a familiar face! It's nice to see you again, Rory," he said to the brunette. He also shook Tristan's hand with a greeting.

"This is a great party, you guys must feel like the king and queen of Stars Hollow today," Tristan remarked to the couple.

"Oh this is nothing, you should have seen when Lor—," Lane started before Rory cut in.

"I already told him about mom and Luke. Lane is merely a princess of Stars Hollow in comparison."

"So has Lane told you about how insane she has been in the three weeks since telling her mother that we're "engaged"?" Dave asked.

"You know there's nothing wrong with taking precautions with Mrs. Kim!" Lane protested.

"She's making me sleep on the couch! She'll barely come near me when she's afraid her mother might around. It's like Lane thinks there might be spies all around town," Rory didn't laugh, in fact, to Dave's surprise she looked rather grim.

"This is no laughing matter, Dave. I think Mrs. Kim does have spies. Or eyes in the back of her head at the least. I'm surprised you forgot how strict she is. Don't you remember all that sneaking around you did?"

"Well yeah, but we're engaged now, she must know that we-," Dave stopped mid sentence at the sight of Rory and Lane giving him a look that told him how naïve he was.

"Okay, I guess I'll keep my eyes peeled."

As if on cue, Mrs. Kim appeared out of no where.

"Here you are! Lane, David, you should be in the gazebo where everyone can see you. This is your party after all."

"Mama, we were just saying hi to Rory and her friend, Tristan," Lane said. Tristan put out his hand to Mrs. Kim; however, the woman simply started him down suspiciously and turned her eyes back to Lane.

"Come Lane, your cousins are here to see you. Let's go David." The two grudgingly complied and followed the mater back to the gazebo, where several young Korean men and women were waiting.

"That was—scary."

"Yeah, she can have that effect on people. Even Lorelai hesitates crossing her."

Rory spent the next hour introducing Tristan to the people of Stars Hollow. Tristan smiled so much that his face started to hurt. He was still stressed out about making a good first impression, or a better second one if applicable. At last they took a seat at a table where Luke and Lorelai were sitting with Jackson and Sookie. They looked up to see one of the strangest sights they had ever seen. It appeared that Paris was dancing a tango—with Kirk.

"What the hell is that?" Rory asked the others.

"Paris and Kirk doing the tango," Lorelai supplied.

"Isn't that the guy from the cosmetic store who sold you lip gloss earlier?" Tristan asked.

"Yup. He sold me my car as well. I want to look away but I can't. It's like a car wreck on the side of the road."

"We've been trying to look away for five minutes, but it's useless," Lorelai said.

"Well I'm going to go get us something to drink. Will you be alright here?" Rory asked Tristan.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and after watching her go he propped his head on one of his hands and turned back to the table to see four sets of eyes on him. He felt nauseous for a second time that day and gave a weary smile.

"Hi Tristan! I'm Sookie and this is my husband, Jackson. I work with Lorelai. How do you like Stars Hollow so far?" she asked very quickly.

"It's a really nice place. I can see why people like it here so much. I've never seen such a close knit group of people before. I've seen people who are all up in each other's business and use the information to their own advantage. But I'm kind of jealous of so many people just caring for each other this much." At this Sookie raised an eyebrow in Lorelai's direction.

"All right, let's just get it over with," said Luke impatiently. "We can try to be sly to find out what this guy's like or we can find out real fast right now"

"What are you tal—," Lorelai and Sookie started, but were cut off.

"Come on; let's not pretend we're not worried. Look at the guy, how do we know he's going to be any different from the last jerk? And you can take that look off your face Lorelai because we all just want to make sure Rory will be okay. I'm the step-father now; I get to be protective, it's my right."

Everyone looked from Luke to Tristan apologetically. Luke turned to Tristan then.

"Now we know you went to Chilton, so that's already a strike against you."

"Uh, Rory went to Chilton you know," Tristan answered, a bit miffed at this supposed crime.

"Yeah, and weren't you one of the snobby kids who gave her a hard time when she started?"

"And I'm sorry for that. Paris wasn't exactly Rory's BFF at the time either, but it looks like she's been forgiven."

"We're talking about you here. You're from the Hartford society set, like Lorelai's parents. I don't know if Rory told you, but her last boyfriend had a similar background."

"Yeah, and I left that life behind when I was about seventeen. Does that story sound at all familiar to you?" Tristan said, on the defensive now.

"Luke, why don't we go dance? This is a waltz; I know how you like to waltz!" Lorelai pleaded. Jackson and Sookie looked at each other, thinking about giving the three some privacy, but they couldn't pull themselves away from their front row seats to the interrogation.

"It's alright Lorelai, it's probably best we hash it all out now," said Tristan tersely. "Yeah, I'm from Hartford society, but I've removed myself. I put in appearances now and then for my family's sake, but that's it. Now it's true, I used to drop names and charm anyone I could, but not anymore. Not here. I know that no one here cares who my grandparents are or how much money they have. I'm here busting my ass trying to make a good impression because I care about Rory. I probably didn't stand a chance when we sixteen. Now I appreciate your concern, but it's been ten years and I'm not going to screw up this time."

Everyone at the table sat dumbstruck and a bit ashamed of themselves for being suspicious of Tristan's character. Just then Rory came back with two drinks in her hands.

"You would not believe the line for the punch. You would have thought Korea was suffering a ten year drought. What's going on over here?" she asked, looking at the five people at the table, who had all fallen silent at her return.

"We were just talking, let's go dance," said Tristan, taking the drinks from Rory and setting them on the table. He stood up and took her hand, leading her over to the space cleared for dancing.

"I feel kind of silly," said Lorelai. "It sounds like he's changed."  
"Yeah, he's really trying," Sookie added. "I want to dance too, come on Jackson."

They got up to join the other dancers, leaving Lorelai and Luke alone. Neither said anything for a few minutes and then Lorelai scooted her chair closer to Luke.

"Do you feel better?" she asked Luke.

"Not about myself. I was the jerk that time. I shouldn't have ambushed him like that. If Rory thinks he deserves a chance then we should trust her judgment."

"Well, in our defense, she hasn't had the greatest judgment in the past. I can think of a couple who weren't my favorite people in the world."

"You're telling me," Luke said, looking over at the couples dancing. Every now and then he caught a glimpse of Tristan and Rory, smiling and laughing.

"Come on," he said abruptly, standing up as he said it.

"What?"

"Let's go dance," he said and he pulled Lorelai by the hand to join the rest of the dancers.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

On Sunday evening Rory was sitting in her bedroom back in Manchester. Tristan had dropped her and Paris off a few hours earlier. Paris was already busy with work-related tasks. Rory sat on her bed, looking through the pictures on her digital camera. She smiled at one of Kirk doing the robot and another of Lane and Dave opening their gifts. She also noticed that others were taken by her mother. Lorelai was clearly having some fun of her own. She was about to put the camera down when the phone rang. Rory picked up and greeted the caller.

"Did you all make it home alright?" Lorelai asked on the other end.

"Yeah, we're all safe and sound."

"Good. Are you sitting? Because I just got a call from your grandmother," Lorelai said.

"What did she want?" Rory asked.

"Apparently you were seen at the Hartford Library with the DuGrey boy and leaving with two small girls last week. One of the library board members happens to be good friends with Emily Gilmore. She saw the whole thing. I'd be surprised if it wasn't on YouTube yet.

"So?"

"So who were the kids? Mom acted like I was hiding your secret life. I was scolded for not telling her that you were seeing Tristan. And here's the best part."

"What?"

"The two of you are expected at dinner next week Friday at the Gilmore's," Lorelai explained, Rory could hear the smile in her mother's voice.

"Um, I guess that's okay," Rory said, getting her calendar to make a note. "Will you and Luke be there?"

"Oh no, this is all you. But don't worry; I'm sure Tristan will pass their inspection with flying colors."

"Yeah, hopefully."

"While I have you, I just want to apologize for Luke," Lorelai said sympathetically. "He was just looking out for your best interest."  
"What are you talking about?" Rory asked, confused.

"You know, last night—that stuff he said to Tristan."

"What stuff he said to Tristan?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Rory asked, getting impatient.

"Luke kind of gave Tristan the fifth degree about his intentions."

"When was this?" Rory asked incredulously.

"When you left to get drinks. I think Tristan held his own though. Luke is sorry; he was just being over protective."

"Well yeah, I'm 25 years old, I can figure out who to date without anyone's help."

"I know, we just don't want to see you get hurt again," Lorelai said calmly.

"I get that, but I'll be fine. Trust me."

"We do. Listen, I have to go, have a good week," Lorelai said.

"Alright Mom, I love you, bye," Rory said, hanging up the phone. She sat for a moment, pondering what her mother had told her. She sighed and shook her head, then picked the phone back up to tell Tristan about the next family event. She also hoped that he wasn't having second thoughts about taking that risk on her.


	8. Get in the Ring

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 8:** Get in the Ring

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Get in the Ring**

"Take a right up here," Rory instructed.

"I know Mary, I've been there before," Tristan answered for the second time that evening. Rory kept giving directions even though his knowledge of the Hartford neighborhood was perfectly intact.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you're from Hartford."

"It's okay; I keep _trying_ to forget."

"Hey, did you bring anything?"

"Like what, a casserole? I didn't think your grandmother did potlucks."

"What?" Rory asked, momentarily distracted.

"A casserole, you know a dish of food one takes to a gathering to share with the others. They often have noodles and or vegetables. They can be tasty if the person who brought it knows how to cook."

"No, it's just that, when Logan came here the first time he brought host gifts for both of my grandparents. I'm sure it's no big deal, they probably forgot about it," Rory said somewhat nervously.

"I did bring some wine from the last time I was in France. Do you think that will work?" Tristan asked.

"Yeah, you'll be fine, forget I said anything."

"Rory relax, I'm not worried at all. This should be a breeze."

"You're right, I'm being silly."

They drove on in silence for a few more minutes, then Tristan turned left and they went through the gated entrance of the Gilmore house. He turned off the engine and they sat for a moment, looking up at the large house.

"Let's go in," Tristan spoke up.

"Okay," Rory replied and they stepped out of the car. She walked around to meet Tristan. She had to admire how good Tristan looked in his tailored black suit with a crisp black shirt and red silk tie. He took her arm in his as they walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Emily's latest maid showed them in and took Rory's purse.

"Rory, there you are," said Emily, walking down the stairs. "And Tristan, I'm glad to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too," Tristan replied politely.

"Emily, are they here?" Richard yelled, coming out of his study.

"Well come and look for yourself Richard, we're right in the foyer," Emily called back.

"Ah, Rory, you are here," he said as he hugged his granddaughter. "And Tristan DuGrey, it's so nice to see you. How is that grandfather of yours?"

"He's very well, sir, thank you. Emily, I brought you some wine from Paris," he said, handing the bottle to her.

"Isn't that lovely? You know Richard, I think we visited this vineyard the last time we were in France."

"Wonderful. Why don't we sit down and have drinks," Richard said, leading the group into the living room. After preparing everyone's drinks Richard sat down and they continued conversing.

"Now Tristan, you seemed to have fallen off of the radar over the past few years," Emily started.

"Yes, as you might have heard, I was shipped off to military school when we were juniors in high school. It was for the best though; I was making bad decisions back then. After that I still wasn't ready to come back to New England, so I went to college at Indiana University."

"A state school. Richard, Tristan went to a state school, how economical," Emily said. Rory looked at her with a bewildered expression.

"Yes, it _is_ a state school," Tristan went on. "A state school with an excellent school of music. People all over the country apply to Indiana University. I earned my bachelor's in piano performance and pedagogy. Then I went to Paris to study piano and music history at the university."

"That's so interesting. Most people only play an instrument as a hobby, you're so lucky to have made it your career," Emily said. Again, Rory pondered the two faced remark. At this point, the maid entered to announce that dinner was ready. The four of them moved to the dinning room and took their seats.

"You know, I did audition and was accepted by a couple of the Ivy leagues," Tristan said, getting the feeling that he needed to gain back some lost ground.

"Oh really? Which couple would those be?" Emily asked and Richard looked on expectantly.

"Princeton and Yale," he answered.

"You got in to Yale?" Rory asked, looking up at him quizzically.

"Well, why on earth didn't you go to one of the two?" Richard asked. "Surely their music programs are superior to any state school."

"I'm sure they are, but like I said, I wasn't ready to come back here yet."

"Grandma, Grandpa, did you know that Tristan teaches here at the University of Hartford?" Rory asked, trying to help Tristan.

"Oh, so you deemed it time to return to Hartford?" Emily asked, looking at Tristan.

"Yes, there was a position open at the last minute and I was asked to step in. I thought it was time to come back home."

"You know, Richard taught a course at Yale. In fact, he regularly gets calls to teach when they have vacancies."

"Excellent," Tristan replied, not really sure how to respond any more.

"Don't you find it rewarding, molding young minds?" Richard said, good heartedly.

"Absolutely," Tristan agreed. There was a lull as they ate their meal; Tristan took the time to give Rory a significant look. She decided it was time to change the subject.

"Grandpa, I almost forgot to tell you, I'm writing an article about the benefit dinner your company is hosting next week."

"Wonderful, it's an excellent cause."

"Isn't it amazing that Logan can find room in his newspaper for such good causes?" Emily asked. Rory stared at her now.

"Uh, yeah, I guess it's nice. I was actually hoping to go down to the Gulf to cover the oil spill. That's just the kind of thing I would love to write about on location. But I didn't get that assignment. It went to a young kid who interned for Logan last summer."

"Don't worry Rory, everything you write has your special spark. Logan knows that and will give you the meatier assignments. I'm sure he's just very busy. There must be tremendous pressure in being the heir of a newspaper empire," Richard observed.

"I guess," Rory answered. She looked back down at her plate, wishing this night was over.

"I should call him sometime."

"What?" Rory asked, looking up at her grandmother with indignation.

"Logan, I should call him. It's been such a long time since we've seen him."

"Grandma, we broke up _two_ years ago, you can't be serious," Rory protested.

"Well just because you broke up with him doesn't mean we did. He's a fine young man and I want to keep in touch with him."

"Fine, do what you want," Rory stated sourly. She had to fight the overwhelming desire to flee from the house.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYY

At high noon on Tuesday, Tristan was sitting at a table at Vito at the Park in downtown Hartford, drinking a glass of iced tea and checking his watch. He glanced at the door but didn't see his lunch companion, so he looked back down at the paper in front of him. He was beginning to think he should stop giving tests altogether.

"Come on, we talked about _The Damnation of Faust_, you know this stuff," Tristan said deploringly to the test in front of him, as though he was talking to the student whose test he was grading.

"You know, it's a sign of old age when you start talking to yourself," an elderly gentleman said has he sat down across from Tristan.

"Hey Grandpa," Tristan said as he hastily put the test paper into his bag.

"I'm sorry I'm a little late, I was closing on a deal and it took a little longer than I thought it would," explained Janlen DuGrey.

"That's all right; I brought some work of my own. How have you been?" Tristan asked after he and his grandfather had placed their lunch orders.

"Oh, I'm quite all right, your grandmother is doing well, too. She sends her love."

"And how's the business?"

"The business is doing as well as can be expected in today's economic climate. We're cutting back on large bonuses and extravagant corporate retreats. We don't want to appear to be the big bad wolf. You know, the corporate executives who have too much money and keep making more," Janlen answered grimly.

"But you _are_ a corporate executive who has a lot of money and keeps making more," Tristan said wryly.

"Yes, but like I said, we don't want to _appear_ to be like that. A lot of people think we're the bad guys just because we've been so successful at what we do."

"Ah, we little people just don't understand," Tristan said with a grin.

"Now don't think poorly of me. I know that teaching job and those concerts you give don't bring you the income you would earn if you'd come to work for me, but you always chose that path."

"I know, and I'd choose it again. Actually, can I ask you something about that?"

"Go right ahead."

"Am I a disappointment since I didn't go to work with you and Dad and Matt? Are you ashamed of what I do for a living?"

"What? No, of course not. Anyone who had any objections to it already gave you an earful long ago. Your father, as you know, was an opponent, but I think he accepted it sooner than he would otherwise since he feels guilty about driving your mother away. Why would you ask something like that now?" Janlen asked as they started to eat from the plates that had been set in front of them.

"Nothing, I was just thinking," Tristan replied. Neither said anything for a few minutes while they ate their meal.

"Grandpa, you know Richard and Emily Gilmore don't you?"

"Yes, certainly; our firm has insurance through Richard's company. In fact, he was the one who closed the deal. Why do you ask?" the older man inquired.

"Oh, well, I started seeing their granddaughter, Rory," Tristan answered.

"That's wonderful Tristan. Let me see; that would make her Lorelai's daughter, correct?"

"Yes."

"I remember that whole business with Lorelai when she was so young; it was quite a scandal for Richard and Emily. Ah, poor Emily!"

"Rory and I actually went to dinner at Richard and Emily's last Friday."

"How are they doing? I haven't seen them in a while, such a shame, really."

"They're doing well," Tristan said, hesitantly going on. "I'm not sure I measured up though."

"Why do you say that?'

"I just got the impression they'd prefer her to be with someone who went to Yale, or at the very least, Harvard."

"Well, Richard _is_ a Yale man. It's easy to be biased about one's own university."

"Yeah, I guess."

"In any case, you shouldn't worry. You're seeing the granddaughter, not Richard and Emily."

"Do you really believe that? Because I'm pretty sure that if I were involved with someone you didn't approve of you'd do all in your power to get that girl out of the picture," Tristan countered.

"I certainly would. But luckily for you I approve of this Gilmore girl," Janlen said with a smile, bringing a close to the matter. The two went on to finish the rest of their lunch amiably. When the meal came to an end Janlen paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant.

"Tristan, always remember that I'm very proud to have you for a grandson. I believe that you're quite brave for blazing your own trail. Keep in mind though, that if you ever change your mind, there's a place for you at the firm," Janlen said sincerely.

"Thanks Grandpa, I'll remember. Give Grandma a kiss for me," Tristan said and with that the two parted ways for their separate places of employment.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Rory was sitting in the conference room at the _Journal Inquirer. _Logan was at the front of the room, talking about difficulties with declining circulation. He was discussing marketing strategies with the head of the ads department. Rory took the opportunity to gaze out the window at the May afternoon. Her mind wandered to Tristan. She wondered what he was doing now. Maybe he was teaching a class. Or in a small room alone, practicing. Either way, it had to be better than sitting in this meeting.

Logan finished giving out assignments for the next issue of the paper and Rory stood up, ready to go back to her office.

"Ace, wait up," Logan said before Rory reached the door. She sighed and turned back around to face her editor.

"What is it Logan?" she asked impatiently.

"I heard something interesting about you last night."

"And what was that?" Rory asked, indifferent.

"That you're dating that DuGrey guy you wrote an article about in April," Logan said with raised eyebrows.

"Where did you hear that?" Rory asked, a little more interested now, in an irritated kind of way.

"From Emily Gilmore, she called me last night, wondering if I would be interested in a dinner some time."

"Great. Do you have a point here?"

"Is that a confirmation or a denial?"

"That my grandmother is starting to go senile? Confirmation, although I think my mother has suspected it all along."

"Are you involved with this guy or not, Ace?"

"Yes, I am. But what is it to you? How does this affect you in any way?"

"Well I just find it a little unprofessional that you'd date someone who you wrote an article about. Don't you think the review would be biased?"

"I wrote an article about the Life and Death Brigade when _we_ were in college and then _you_ and _I_ dated. How is this so different?"

"It was about the Life and Death Brigade, not about me. See, there's a big difference."

"Whatever, Logan. I wasn't being biased in the review. And who cares if I'm dating someone I wrote about, it's not like I'm a doctor and he's my patient; I'm not exactly pulling an Izzie Stevens here. If that were the case, I'd be worried too. But it's not the case."

"Man, he must be one remarkable piano player to have wooed you so quickly."

"We went out before the concert," Rory retorted hotly.

"Oh?" Logan said, surprised.

"I didn't meet Tristan at his concert, Logan. We had dinner the week before and I didn't even know it was _his_ concert! I wasn't listening to you the day you gave me the assignment!"

"Good to know," Logan said icily.

"Oh please, it's not like you're going to give me the hard hitting news stories. Not unless you're getting into it with your dad."

"Come on, we both know I'm not that petty!" Logan argued.

"You _are_, so don't pretend to be otherwise. It's been this way for two and a half years and I don't see it changing any time soon. But I'm a great writer, so it doesn't matter. I can write a compelling piece on asphalt if I have to. So if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to work." Rory turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, not looking back.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Later that same night there was an intense game of _Scrabble_ happening in Paris and Rory's living room. Rory was contemplating what she could possibly spell with six vowels and one consonant when the phone rang. She got up to answer while Paris put her letters down and celebrated her triple word score.

"Hello."

"I wanted to call sooner but I've been crazy busy. How did it go?" Lorelai asked in greeting.

"How did what go?"

"How did what go, she asks in an innocent tone. Dinner with the grandparents!"

"Oh, Friday night. It was . . . confusing," Rory answered. "Can I put you on speaker; it's my turn to put a word down."

"Sure, who am I talking to?" Lorelai asked when everyone could hear.

"Paris," Paris chirped happily as she wrote down her score.

"And Tristan," Tristan answered. Lorelai could hear the dejection in his voice.

"What's wrong? Paris beating you at _Scrabble_? It happens to the best of us," Lorelai said.

"She is, but it's not that. I just had a flashback from Friday night. Now I know what Nam veterans feel like," Tristan said. "Your parents love Huntzburger," he added.

"No they don't," Rory tried to argue.

"Sure they do, he has a lot of money and runs his own newspaper. One day he'll own _a lot_ of newspapers. He's a very important young man you know."

"You're a trust fund kid; you have a lot of money too. Tell me that my mother did not bring Logan up during dinner?" Lorelai asked, cringing at the possibility.

"Oh yes, she did," Tristan supplied.

"Can I tell her about work today?" Paris asked, looking at Rory expectantly.

"What happened at work today?"

"It seems that Logan knows about Tristan and Rory," Paris told Lorelai.

"How did he find that out?" Lorelai inquired.

"Your mother. She called him. She wants to have him over for dinner some time. And she told him about us," Rory said. "He gave me some grief about it, but I brushed him off. I don't let him get to me any more."

"Oh, I am so sorry guys," Lorelai said sympathetically.

"Hey, did you also know how lucky teachers are to not have to deal with large salaries? I'm probably very responsible for being able to manage such a modest sum."

"She did _not_ say that," Lorelai stated.

"She did," Rory concurred. "She also insinuated that Tristan made a career out of a leisure activity."

"Come on, she should have loved you, Tristan, you're from her world, what could have possibly been so wrong with you?

"Apparently a lot," Tristan answered, gloomily. "I thought it would be easy. I thought they'd love me. But it seems that my life choices aren't what they'd call ideal."

"It was like, in theory they approve of Tristan because of his connections and background, but they didn't really think highly of Tristan the individual," Rory reasoned.

"But other than that I think they loved me," Tristan said cynically.

"Don't feel bad, Tristan, this is just what my parents do," Lorelai said comfortingly.

"She just kept giving me these complements that weren't really compliments at all and I didn't know what to say. I had to resort to grinning and nodding. I'm used to disappointing _my_ family; it's new to disappoint someone else's."

"Come on now, that's my character in the Gilmore Family Masterpiece Theater. I might have to fight you for the part," Lorelai said, trying to lighten things up.

"You can have it, I won't fight you for it," Tristan said.

"Don't worry about this, guys. They'll come around. They just aren't big fans of change. Well, unless they were the ones controlling the change, of course. Hey, listen guys, I have to go. Jeremy still needs a bath tonight and it looks like it's my turn to supervise," Lorelai said. The three bid Lorelai a good night and continued with their game.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"Greta, could you please iron Mr. Gilmore's grey suit, he wants to wear it when he leaves for his business trip tomorrow," Emily called to the maid.

"Greta? Did you hear me?" she yelled again as the phone rang. Emily walked to the phone to answer.

"Gilmore residence," she said into the phone.

"Mom?"

"Lorelai, is that you?"

"No, it's your other daughter. Of course it's Lorelai."

"Well what do need Lorelai? I'm very busy today."

"I talked to Rory and Tristan last night," Lorelai said expectantly.

"So? I don't have time for guessing games today," Emily said impatiently.

"So you didn't treat Tristan very well at dinner Friday night."

"Of course I did. I was perfectly civil. The Gilmores and the DuGreys have always been friendly. Richard has done business with Tristan's grandfather for years."

"Okay, but why did you bring up Logan? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking how Logan is a significant young man and that Rory may have tossed him aside too hastily without giving him enough thought."

"Oh my God, you think it's all downhill now that she's not with Logan."

"Of course not, don't be silly," Emily argued.

"Yes, you do!"

"Well she works with him, certainly I believed that they'd give it another shot," Emily said desperately.

"Yenta, they're finished. He made bad decisions and was a jerk. So stop trying play match maker. Do you know who you're acting like? The Huntzburgers when they first met Rory. She wasn't good enough for Logan; and now you think Tristan isn't good enough for Rory. It's not like Rory is inheriting a huge company and fortune."

"Exactly, and neither is Tristan," Emily said in a defeated voice. "For goodness sakes, he's a pianist! He could be one of your employees at your inn."

"So what?"

"So is that who we want for Rory? The person who provides the entertainment? Is that even stable employment?"

"He also teaches; that seems stable enough, doesn't it?" Lorelai reasoned. "Mom, just let them be. Isn't it more important how he treats Rory, not how much money he has or how important other people think he is?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Emily conceded.

"I am right," Lorelai said.

"And I suppose I can tell Logan that I can't find time in our schedule to have dinner in the near future."

"Yes, you should."

"However, we do have time in our schedule for our daughter and her family."

"Gee mom, I don't know," Lorelai said unconvincingly.

"I'll see you all this Friday Lorelai," Emily said.

"See you Friday," Lorelai said in defeat and hung up the phone.


	9. Buik MacKane Big Dumb Sex

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 9:** Buik MacKane (Big Dumb Sex)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Buik MacKane (Big Dumb Sex)**

Paris was lying on her bed with papers scattered all around her. She was attempting to organize the piles into something more manageable when she heard a knock at the door of the apartment. She sighed impatiently and got up off the bed, careful not to disturb her work. She walked through the apartment and opened the front door. She saw who was on the other side and started to close the door.

"Rory isn't home from work yet," Paris told Tristan. Before she could block his entrance he held his hand up to the door to stop her intended act.

"I know; I already called her. Actually Paris, I was hoping I could talk to _you_."

"I'll give you fifteen minutes of my time and then I have to get back to what I was doing," Paris agreed, letting Tristan into the living room.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Kind of. There's an election coming up in a month. It's just the primaries, of course, but it's still important to keep track of how people are voting. It's been a couple of years since the Democrats took the House and the Senate, opinions have shifted and we need to keep our antennas up."

"Sure, people are getting angry about the economy. I understand. I won't keep you long."

"So what did you want to discuss?" Paris asked as they sat down on the couch.

"Rory. She seems really unhappy at the _Journal Inquirer_. Do you know why she keeps working there if she hates that Huntzburger jerk so much?"

"The eternal question. Trust me, we've all told her she should leave that rag."

"Who's we?"

"Me, Lorelai, me, Lane, me," Paris counted off the list on her fingers.

"In other words she's tired of hearing about it from certain parties."

"Yes. But if she's really tired of it she'd just take our advice and move on to greener pastures."

"Okay, so everyone agrees she should quit that job, but that still doesn't answer why she doesn't."

"She insists that she likes her job and that she's still challenged there, but I don't believe it. Did she tell you about what happened with Logan's dad when we were in college?

"Yeah, knocked her confidence all out of whack."

"Right. She picked herself up, wiped herself off, and continued on her path to becoming a journalist. But I think being around the Huntzburgers for so long got to her. She still remembers what Mitchem said to her. Before graduating she turned down a job offer in New Jersey because she was waiting to hear about a fellowship at the _New York Times_, but she didn't get it. I guess she still thinks her options are limited. Plus, it would be like breaking up with Logan again. Who wants to dump someone twice?"

"She doesn't still think of him romantically does she?" Tristan asked worriedly.

"God no. That ship sailed a long time ago. She just felt grateful for the job in the first place and doesn't like letting people down."

"No one works in the same place their whole life; it's natural to move on."

"Of course it is. Rory can be kind of thick about things some times."

"Trust me, I know," Tristan said somewhat darkly.

"Well she gets it from her mother."

"But why—," he was interrupted by the door opening and slamming shut. Rory walked into the room with furrowed brows and a mean demeanor. She glared at both Paris and Tristan when she saw them.

"Speak of the devil."

"I don't what to hear it!" Rory seethed. She went straight back to her room without stopping to address Paris or Tristan further.

"You ok?" Tristan called cautiously.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine. I just hope you weren't planning on doing anything tonight, because I have to work. I have to cover the fireworks in Hartford tonight!"

"Huntzburger is making you write about the show? What does he expect you to write?" Paris asked skeptically as Rory reentered the living room.

"This is just his way of getting back at me. He's still sore over the time I said I don't always listen to everything he says. He knew I might have plans. I can't believe he would do this!"

"I'll go with you," Tristan offered.

"You will? I mean, you wouldn't mind?" Rory said, calming down ever so slightly.

"Yeah. The Hartford Symphony Orchestra will play patriotic music; the fireworks will be over the top. It should be an okay time. We can even check out the country club. There'll be a lot of people there watching."

"You really want to spend time with me tonight? I'm not my most pleasant right now."

"We all get mad sometimes. Maybe I can help to improve your mood. Besides, I think Paris would like us to get out of her hair," he said, looking pointedly at Paris.

"I will neither agree nor disagree with that statement. But our time _is_ up," Paris said as she got up to return to the work in her room.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

After an hour and a half of driving around aimlessly, Tristan pulled over to the side of the road in a Hartford neighborhood. Rory had talked his ear off the entire drive about how upset she was with her work week. By this time she had completely cooled off. Tristan even talked up the show enough that she was looking forward to it.

"You know the fourth of July celebration does sound kind of fun. And I get to pick the angle of the article. I _could_ trace the history of Independence Day celebrations throughout the centuries," Rory said, perking up a bit.

"That sounds interesting. I'll read it."

"Tristan," Rory said, causing her companion to look up at her.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening to me go on and on about all my frustrations."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," he said with a smile and leaned over to give Rory a kiss.

Rory glanced out the window at the house they were parked next to.

"This is a nice house. Huge," she commented.

"Yeah, he keeps his yard looking impeccable of course."

"He?" Rory asked, turning back with a confused expression.

"Headmaster Charleston. You didn't know he lived here?"

"No, I had no idea," Rory answered. Tristan sat for a moment, pondering the circumstances.

"What do you say to some catharsis?" he asked her.

"What do you have in mind?"

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Fifteen minutes later the two were walking through a department store. They were quickly walking through the aisles with dining ware. Tristan looked up at the signs to see how the store was organized and pointed them in the right direction.

"What are we looking for? China patterns?" Rory asked in bafflement as she hastened to keep up with Tristan.

"Forks, and fancy ones, it _is_ a nice neighborhood," Tristan answered.

"What do we need forks for?"

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The next thing Rory knew, they were parked a block away from Charleston's house and Tristan was dragging her out of the car.

"Come on! We should to get to the country club soon and it's starting to get dark out. We have to hurry!"

They ran down the sidewalk until they were once again in front of their former headmaster's home. Tristan tentatively stepped onto the lawn. When nothing happened he beckoned for Rory to join him.

"What are we doing?" Rory said in a loud whisper.

"Don't worry, no one is here, everyone is at the club. Take these," he replied, handing Rory several boxes of forks.

"Uh Tristan, what are we going to do with these utensils in Headmaster Charleston's yard?" she sounded really worried at this point.

"Rory, you need to burn off some steam. What better way to do that then to fork Headmaster Charleston's perfectly manicured lawn?" he said as he led them closer to the house.

"But what if someone sees us? They'll call the police! I don't have the time to do 300 more hours of community service! I just got my record expunged from stealing that yacht."

"Then I suggest we move fast before anyone catches us," Tristan said as he started ripping open his first box of forks. Rory smiled and followed his example.

"Make sure you get them really stuck into the ground," Tristan instructed, though a look in Rory's direction let him know that she didn't need the advice. She was attacking the ground as though it had wronged her in some way.

They made their way through three boxes each and were halfway back to the street when all of a sudden water started shooting up out of the ground.

"Uh oh," Tristan said, looking up to see the sprinklers watering the grass.

"Keep going! We're almost finished!" Rory encouraged. They quickly stabbed the ground with their remaining forks and stood back up on the sidewalk. They stood, dripping wet and looking at their handy work. Tristan made sure to collect all of the empty fork boxes.

"We don't want to litter," he said. "Come on, I think I see a car coming." He put his free arm around Rory and led her down the sidewalk. When the car came down the street, they looked like they were taking an evening stroll.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The Hartford Country Club was bustling with people at 9:30 that night. Tristan milled about making small talk with people he knew while Rory interviewed some of the spectators. He caught a glimpse of a country club employee walk over to Headmaster Charleston to deliver a message. Charleston had looked concerned and got up to follow the worker out of the room. Tristan turned away under the pretense of taking a drink of his beverage before the headmaster spotted him in his dampened state.

"Hey, Little Brother," a blonde man greeted Tristan.

"Hey Matt, what's up?" Tristan said affably.

"Just out to see the fireworks with the fam," Matthew answered nonchalantly.

"That's funny; you don't seem to be with the fam at the moment."

"Yeah, the girls ran into Grandma. I didn't feel like talking shop with Grandpa before my extended weekend though. Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Tristan protested.

"No, but you have that smug look on your face."

"I was just thinking about how fortunate I am to never fall into that predicament."

"Yeah, well good for you. What are you doing here anyway? This isn't really your thing."

"It could be my thing. This isn't so bad."

"Really?" Matthew asked in disbelief.

"Hey, there you are! I'm finished talking with people in here, we should probably go find a good place to sit outside. Oh, hi Matthew, it's nice to see you again," Rory said as she joined to two men. Matthew looked to his younger brother, taking his turn to smirk this time.

"Hello Rory. Do I even want to know why you two are wet?"

"No. The less you know the better."

"Oh, Tristan, don't forgot that you're coming over to the house next week Sunday for your birthday dinner."

"Your birthday is coming up?" Rory asked and looked to Tristan for confirmation.

"Yes. I hope you're not superstitious, I was born on Friday the thirteenth."

"You should come with him to dinner, Rory," Matthew told her. "Felicity and the girls would love to have you."

"Sure, if that's alright with Tristan."

"Yeah, if you think you're ready for the whole clan."

"I think I'll manage."

"Well, I should get back to the girls," Matthew said and left the couple.

"And _we_ should get outside," Tristan told Rory, making a path through the throngs of people. When they had almost reached the door they ran into Richard and Emily Gilmore.

"Rory, Tristan, why on Earth are you two wet?" Emily asked them, sounding horrified.

"Oh, well we—," Rory started without knowing how to explain.

"We were walking to the car and got caught in a short rain shower," Tristan supplied easily.

"That's funny, I didn't know it rained at all," Richard said.

"It was a short shower; it only lasted a couple minutes. And I think it was only in Manchester," Rory added.

"Really? Well alright," Emily said, deciding not to pursue the topic further.

"We should be getting outside before all the good spots are taken. I'll see you guys later," Rory said as they continued out the door, holding in their laughter.

Rory followed Tristan up a hill on the golf course that was unoccupied. He rolled down the blanket they had brought and they laid down on their backs to get a good view of the sky. They could hear the gentle strains of the orchestra playing in the distance.

"What's this song they're playing?" Rory inquired. "I know what it is, but it sounds . . . different. I feel so un-American right now."

"You should. It's _Variations on America_. That's why it sounds familiar but different, it's a variation. You should see it performed on the organ, it's pretty awesome," Tristan answered. Rory made a note in her pad that she had be writing and turned to him.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I know this isn't where you hang out a lot in your spare time."

"My pleasure. I can handle it every now and then."

"Tristan, I've been having a really good time with you," Rory said, looking Tristan in the eye.

"Good, because I really like you, Rory. A lot. I always did, you know," he answered as he propped himself up onto his side with his elbow.

Tristan leaned over to kiss her. His lips were cool and soft on hers. He was going to pull away, but before he could, Rory parted her lips enough to allow his tongue to flicker in, to which he complied willingly. He shifted his right arm to the other side of Rory and positioned himself over her. He was even somewhat surprised when she parted her legs enough to accommodate his body. He made a hot trail of kisses down her neck as Rory slowly ran her hands up Tristan's muscle toned fore arms. His mouth returned to hers as his right hand slipped under her blouse. It inched slowly up her torso until—

There was a loud bang and the sky lit up. They both looked up sharply and Tristan gave a quiet groan. He grudgingly rolled back over to his side of the blanket so they could both see the sky again. If it wasn't so dark out, he would have seen the disappointment and yearning in Rory's eyes.


	10. You Ain't the First

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 10:** You Ain't the First

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N: **_#1_: You're about to get schooled in music history, but as you'll see I couldn't help myself. _#2_:Please note that the rating has been changed.

**You Ain't the First**

It was getting late. The stars blanketed the sky in Manchester above the couple who strolled down the side walk hand in hand.

"That was really nice of you to play _Candy Land_ with Louisa and Marietta. They must really like you to make you play board games with them," Tristan told Rory.

"Yeah well, I've had quite a bit of practice, being a big sister and all. Besides, they're really sweet girls. They're fun to play with."

"They are," Tristan agreed. "I'm not sure how my brother got so lucky with nice little girls. Karma says he should have a couple of rough neck wild boys who drive him crazy all day."

"Maybe that's _your_ fate," Rory said with a smirk.

"God, I hope not," Tristan said with a shutter. "My grandparents enjoyed your company as well tonight."

"Well the feeling is mutual; they were so nice to me."

"They're just overjoyed that I finally brought someone around for them to meet. The fact that you're _you_ probably made them ecstatic."

"Make me blush why don't you?" Rory said with a smile. "It's too bad your dad couldn't have come too."

"He was out of town. I'm sure he'll be crazy about you too when he does meet you."

"We can only hope. So are you ready for your twenty sixth birthday celebration? It's only two days away!"

"I guess so."

"Why don't you sound more excited?"

"It's just that, well, I'm going to be closer to thirty than twenty."

"Oh please, I'll be twenty six in October too. We're still totally young. Plus, you've accomplished _so_ much already. Just think of all you'll have by the time you're thirty," Rory reasoned. Tristan gave her a thoughtful look, his piercing blue eyes bore into hers. Rory blushed under the intensity of his gaze.

"I'm sure you're right. So what do you have planned for me?"

"Well, first we're going to go to dinner, my treat. Then, we're going to go to the symphony."

"The symphony?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "You don't have to write about it, do you?"

"No. It's just that you've been so great, taking me to the country club last week to see the fourth of July fireworks, I wanted to return the favor by doing something you'd like. It _is_ your birthday after all."

"That it is. So whose symphony is it?

"Berlioz's," Rory answered.

"_Symphonie Fantastique_?"

"Yup. I've read that it ushered in the Romantic period."

"It did. You've been studying," Tristan observed with a grin.

"Yes I have," Rory stated proudly. "Anyway, after the concert I thought we'd go back to your place for cake."

"It sounds like you have everything planned out."

"Yes I do," Rory said as they walked up the stairs to her apartment. When they arrived at her door neither hesitated before embracing. Tristan's hands were at Rory's waist as hers wrapped around his neck. They kissed each other hungrily as he backed her against the door. His hands started to dip lower when the door abruptly disappeared. Rory fell to the floor and Tristan toppled beside her. He had to move quickly to avoid falling right on top of her. Both looked up, extremely disgruntled.

"Don't lurk outside doorways," Paris said sternly. "And get a room," she said as she stalked off. Rory made a face at the retreating figure.

"Are you okay?" Tristan asked, rubbing his own side.

"Yeah, no harm done," she answered as he helped her up.

"I actually have to go," Tristan said gloomily.

"Already? Are you sure?"

"Unfortunately. I have to get up really early. I like to knock out a few hours of practice before the day gets started."

"A few hours? How early do you have to get up?"

"Around four."

"The morning one? I wasn't sure it even existed! I've always thought it was just a myth!"

"It does exist and it comes around pretty fast."

"This responsible Tristan is suddenly less attractive," Rory pouted.

"Tell me about it. I'm finding myself disgusting right now."

"Well," Rory said with a sigh, "I guess I will see you Tuesday night then."

"Yes you will," Tristan answered with a grin. He kissed her good night, careful to keep it chaste, and left the apartment. Rory sat down on the couch, her eyebrows furrowed. She picked up the phone from the coffee table and used the speed dial. Two rings later someone answered.

"Hey Mom, it's me. I have a favor to ask you."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"This is really delicious, you should have a bite," Rory told Tristan, who was sitting across the table. He reached over with his fork and ate a piece of chicken from Rory's plate.

"It's not bad. It's almost as good as my steak," he answered, leaning over with his fork again, this time with a piece of meat on it. Rory leaned forward to eat the food from his fork.

"That is good, aren't you glad I talked you into getting it?" she asked, wriggling her eyebrows at him.

"Yes, although I still think it was a bit over the top."

"Nothing is over the top today. It's _your_ day. You should get the best."

"Well I won't argue then."

"Good. Now, I want you to tell me about this symphony. You're the professor, I want to hear about it from someone who knows what he's talking about."

"You're just feeding my ego now, it really _is_ my day. But okay. Do you know anything about program music?'

"It's music that tells a story, right?"

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor. It tells a story. _Symphonie Fantastique_ is somewhat autobiographical of Berlioz himself."

"How so?"

"Well you see Berlioz saw a performance of _Hamlet_ and fell in love with the actress playing Ophelia. He wanted to get her to notice him, but she wasn't interested," Tristan paused, giving Rory a pointed look. "He even had a couple of concerts to get her attention, but that didn't work. So after that he wrote _Symphonie Fantastique_."

"And it's the story about his experience?"

"Sort of. The symphony is about an artist who sees a beautiful girl. She's practically perfect to him. The first movement is about his daydreams, where he's alternately happy and jealous over the girl. This actually might sound a bit autobiographical about me," Tristan admitted.

"That's sweet, some girl distracted you?" Rory said, but Tristan just stared at her. He took a sip of his red wine and continued.

"The second movement, 'A Dance,' is a bit self explanatory. He watches the girl at a ball, but he's confused because he can't have her. In the third movement he broods. Again, I can relate,"

"You can? Who did you see at a dance that you couldn't get? You probably dated most of the girls in our class at Chilton."

"Not the one I really wanted," Tristan said, not taking his eyes off of hers.

"Get out of town! Who? You have to tell me now, I insist," Rory said eagerly.

"_You_," Tristan said, somewhat incredulously.

"What?"

"You Rory, _you_ were the one I wanted but couldn't have. Don't you remember that stupid formal where I picked a fight with your boyfriend?"

"I remember, but you hated me, so what do you mean—," Rory tried, but Tristan was shaking his head.

"No, _you_ hated _me,_ which pretty much sealed my fate. It just made me want you more."

"Shut the front door," Rory said weakly. "Tristan, I had no idea. I just thought you had to prove something."

"Would anything be different if you had known?" Tristan asked, and Rory shook her head.

"No, but I'm still sorry."

"It's okay; don't beat yourself up over it. I didn't deserve you then anyway. Look at where you are and who you're with. You haven't run away from me yet in the past few months, so I'm happy."

"I'm glad. So what happens in the rest of the symphony?"

"Oh, well, the artist is upset about being rejected so he gets high and dreams about condemning the girl as a whore. Then he witnesses his own march to the scaffold where he's executed. It all ends with a witch's Sabbath at his funeral in the fifth movement," Tristan answered mildly. Rory looked at him with furrowed brows.

"Don't worry, that part doesn't reflect my life," he told her, but Rory still looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"It's just, you said Berlioz set up concerts to get that girl's attention and well, I saw you in concert. It's been ten years, you didn't, I mean, you haven't," Rory rambled, with a troubled expression. Tristan was shaking his head again.

"Mary," Tristan said sharply, "fix you face. You're not my Daisy Buchanan and I'm not your Jay Gatsby."

"Oh good," she said, taking a relieved breath.

"Keep in mind, Berlioz might have been tripping on opium when he wrote _Symphonie Fantastique_."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. That's the way it goes with the best composers. They were either on drugs or alcoholics. Oh, or they had syphilis," Tristan said, to which Rory laughed.

"Did the actress ever notice him though?"

"Actually she did. It was after he wrote a sequel to his symphony. She found out it was all inspired by her and they got married."

"Aw, a happy ending."

"Not exactly. Berlioz had her built up in his head so much that she couldn't live up to the Shakespearean goddess he had idealized for so long. They divorced after nine years of marriage."

"Oh," Rory said with a cringe.

"It happens. We can all learn from Berlioz: don't trip on opium while watching Shakespeare," Tristan said lightly. Rory just smiled down at her plate.

"And just one more fun fact, he actually wrote an oratorio after all of this."

"Yeah? What's the fun part about it?"

"It's _Romeo and Juliet_."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The seats Rory had purchased for the concert were excellent. They were close enough that they could hear the encouragement and jokes the conductor shared with the musicians. As the orchestra played Rory skimmed her program notes, which where in sync with Tristan's description. They both found the performance superb. Rory especially enjoyed the 'March to the Scaffold' movement, finding it quite exciting.

When the concert was over they headed back to Tristan's apartment for the promised cake that Rory had delivered when she came over before dinner. They each had a generous slice and ate it on the big black leather couch in Tristan's living room.

When they finished eating, Rory took their plates and set them in the kitchen before excusing herself to the bathroom. Tristan was still sitting on the couch when she came back down the hall. He had picked up a copy of the paper and was perusing it while he waited for her to return.

"Present time! Close your eyes," she exclaimed before she entered the room.

"I'm looking at the paper, I can't see anyway," he answered, distracted by what he was reading.

"Close 'em!" Rory demanded forcefully.

"Fine. They're closed," Tristan obeyed, putting down the paper. Rory walked into the room and behind the couch. She dropped to her knees and placed the box she was holding in Tristan's lap. She kissed him on the cheek and told him to open his eyes.

"You didn't have to get me anything, you already paid for dinner and the concert," Tristan protested.

"Just open it," Rory said with a smirk. Tristan took off the bow and tore open the festive Christmas wrapping paper.

"Nice paper," he leered.

"Hush, it's all I had," she answered. Isolde took interest in her owner's gift and walked across Tristan's lap as he opened the box.

"Huh, a sweater," Tristan replied with furrowed brows, looking down at the black garment. "In July. I don't get it, Mary."

"Well, let me tell you the back story. When I was living in the pool house, my grandparents were worried that I was getting too intimate with my then-boyfriend. So they had their minister come chat with me about being careful with my virtue. He said that if I gave it away, I would have nothing to give the next guy but a sweater."

"And _I'm_ the next guy, so I get a sweater," Tristan said dryly, wondering how his birthday could have taken such a quick nose dive.

"That's right!" Rory said in what Tristan felt was an inappropriately cheerful voice. Just as he was about to vocalize his objection to the gift Rory stood back up and walked around the couch so he could see all of her. At this point he could only stare. She was wearing a short plaid skirt and a light blue button down shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. By the looks of things, the shirt was slightly too small for the attributes it held underneath it. And on closer look, Tristan could have sworn that her bra had gone missing.

"What are you wearing?" he asked when he regained control of his voice.

"What does it look like?" Rory said with a wicked grin.

"It _looks_ like a Chilton uniform. My memory must be failing me though, were the skirts always that length?" he asked, unable to concentrate with the amount of leg being displayed before him.

"Oh, no. I had this one shortened for tonight. I thought it would make good wrapping paper."

"Wrapping paper?" he breathed shallowly.

"Yes, wrapping paper for whatever's left of my virtue. It's yours for the taking. Plus now you finally get to see what's under here," Rory explained, looking devilishly pleased with herself. Tristan stood up so quickly the box fell to the floor and Isolde had to leap off to the side so as not to fall with the box. In what Rory considered record time he was across the room and had her in his arms. He kissed her on the lips in earnest before picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. She giggled and started so spank him.

"Hey!"

"You need you're birthday spanking!" she said with a giggle.

Tristan entered his bedroom and saw that she had already lit several candles and had music playing softly from his stereo. He unceremoniously dropped her onto his bed and she looked up at him with desire in her eyes. He quickly unbelted and discarded his pants and his lips again assaulted Rory's. She went to work on the buttons to his shirt with trembling fingers. Tristan's hands wandered up and down the sides of her torso, each time getting tantalizingly closer to the center of her breasts. After she had discarded his shirt both of his thumbs finally grazed over her hardened nipples. Rory gasped and arched her back at the sensation. Before Tristan knew what had happened, they had both rolled over and Rory was straddling him. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids. He had her shirt removed as she trailed her lips down his chest, her hands on his muscular abs. Tristan's hands went to her smooth thighs and slid up under the short skirt.

"Where is your underwear?" he asked breathily.

"I lost them when I came in," Rory answered in what she was attempting at an innocent voice.

"Of course you did."

Tristan unzipped the skirt in the back but had to negotiate it over Rory's head as she was unwilling to remove her legs from around his midsection. His hands once again roamed over Rory's breasts and her head fell back at his touch; her hips involuntarily bucked against him. When she could no longer stand the ache that needed to be filled she reached over to the night stand and took something out from one of the boxes. Tristan tilted his head and smirked when he saw that there were several boxes sitting on his night stand. Rory reached down between Tristan's legs and felt how stiff he was; she heard his quick intake of breath as she ran her hand along the long length of him. She applied the prophylactic and slowly began to guide him inside of her. When Tristan felt Rory, hot and slick around him he rolled them back over and pinned her back down beneath him.

He kissed her deeply and lifted his head to look at her under him. When he looked into her eyes he saw the need that mirrored his own. Slowly, he began to move. Rory's breasts rose and fell rapidly as he thrust into her methodically. She arched toward him and her hips started to move with him rhythmically of their own volition. She moaned and he knew she was getting close; he instinctively moved faster, each time delving deeper than before. Just when Rory was sure she was going go split into two the waves of pleasure crashed over her. The beautiful pulsing sensation stretched on for several seconds as Tristan continued to thrust and then his own release arrived and he groaned with pleasure. He then collapsed on top of her and all was still as their breathing returned to normal. He rolled off of her and couldn't control the large smile that stretched over his face.

"That was the best birthday I've ever had, Rory," he told her and kissed her shoulder.

"Even with the sweater?" she asked.

"That's my favorite sweater. I'm wearing it tomorrow even if the temperature is in the nineties."

Rory returned the smile and relaxed, content, as Tristan slowly nibbled at her neck. She felt something stir within her and knew she made the right preparations when she glanced over at the boxes sitting on the night stand.


	11. Shotgun Blues

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 11:** Shotgun Blues

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Shotgun Blues**

The back door of the _Journal Inquirer_ swung shut after Rory Gilmore walked in. She was just getting in from city hall. She had been interviewing the mayor and some council members about recent issues in the city. She actually enjoyed the assignment a great deal. The story was a big one and would affect a lot of people. Thanks to a recent blow out between the two Huntzburger men, she had been getting some excellent assignments. She was about to go to her office to write up her story when one of the other reporters told her she had a delivery at the reception desk. She took a detour and headed for the main entrance. When she got there she greeted the receptionist with a smile.

"Hi, Joyce, I hear there's a delivery for me?"

"There sure is, just give me a minute to grab it," Joyce answered and got up to retrieve the item.

"Ace, you're back, good. I missed you at the meeting this morning."

"You know where I was," Rory answered civilly.

"City hall, I remember. I just wanted to let you know what your next assignment is."

"Great, what is it?"

"I'm sending out reporters to the states with primary elections on August third and I assigned you Missouri. You fly out to St. Louis Monday morning."

"Oh my God, really? I get to cover their election?"  
"Yup. I want my best people out in the field on this one."

"Well, thank you. I'll start researching as soon as Joyce brings me my delivery," Rory said eagerly. On cue, the receptionist returned with a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. Rory read the short message and grinned in response. She took the flowers and hurried to her office.

"Flowers, huh? That's nice," Logan commented, watching Rory retreat.

"Yeah, I'd image her office is looking like the Botanical Gardens by now."

"Why's that?"

"Rory has been getting flowers a couple days of the week for past two or three weeks. She either has a new admirer or that guy she's seeing is enjoying her company," Joyce answered.

"Oh really," Logan stated flatly. "Maybe he's in the dog house and just trying to get back in her good graces. I've been there."

"I doubt it, considering that she's wearing the same outfit she had on yesterday," Joyce confidently answered her employer, who was looking pensively in the direction of Rory's office.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"Hello?" Tristan said as he answered his office phone.

"Tristan, hi, it's me. I just got the flowers you sent; they're beautiful, thank you."

"No no, thank _you_ for last night," Tristan said smoothly.

"I do what I can. But you're going to go broke soon if you keep sending me flowers."

"Are you propositioning me, Rory?" he asked and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Maybe. I have good news."

"Oh yeah?"

"I get to cover the primary election in Missouri in four days on location! I fly out Monday."

"That's great; you're finally getting to write about politics like you want."

"I know! If I do well, maybe I'll get to write about the midterm election in November. Plus Missouri is a bell weather state, so it gets a decent amount of national attention during elections. I'm so excited!"

"You're going to do a great job. I'd say I'm about seventy-five percent happy for you."

"Only seventy-five?" Rory said with a frown.

"Yes. Three fourths happy that you're fulfilling your dream, one fourth sad that you have to be so far away for a few days. I'm not sure I'll survive the separation."

"I'll be back before you know it. I actually have a favor to ask you."

"You need to borrow my raft so you and Huck can float down the Mississippi?"

"Yes, and can you make sure it's clean, I don't want to come across any cobwebs from when it was in storage."

"Sure thing, anything else?"

"Yes, would you be able to drive me to the airport Monday morning? My flight is pretty early, so it shouldn't interfere with your schedule too much."

"I can. I'll even do you one better. Come over to my place Sunday night and I'll tell you about the Missouri state motto."

"I already know it's the Show-Me State."

"Well in that case I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Tristan said and Rory could hear that the smirk had returned.

"I'll see you Sunday," she said with a grin and eye roll as she sat the phone back down on the receiver.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Paris sat in the living room reading _Newsweek _and tried to ignore her roommate, who was running all around the apartment. It was getting difficult to focus on the magazine.

"Do you know where I put those articles from the St. Louis _Post-Dispatch _and the Kansas City _Star_?" Rory asked, looking frazzled.

"They're right here on the lamp table where you left them," Paris answered, handing over the documents.

"Thanks."

"You're in rare form this afternoon."

"I just want to make sure I have everything for tomorrow."

"I know, but it's only 3:30, you have plenty of time."

"I don't, I'm going over to Tristan's tonight."

"Oh really?" Paris said dryly. "What for? I'd have thought you'd want a good night's sleep before you leave."

"He's driving me to the airport tomorrow morning."

"And I'm supposed to believe that's the only reason you're going to his place?"

"What other reason would I have?" Rory asked. Paris only looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"If you don't know I'm not going to be the one to tell you. What about last Thursday? I didn't see you again until you got home from work Friday."

"We were watching reruns of _The Office_ and _30 Rock_."

"All night? That should have lasted an hour."

"Well . . . we found something else to do and fell asleep." Paris snorted.

"What?"

"A likely story. More likely you found some_one _to do."

"Don't be dirty!"

"Then come home once in a while."

"I'm home all the time."

"Sure, on the nights Tristan gives lessons."

"Paris, does it bother you that I've been spending some nights at Tristan's?"

"No, not really. You're an adult and can do what you want. I'm just busting your balls for my own entertainment. Mostly because I find it inconceivable that you're sleeping with Tristan."

"You're telling me."

"Now get packing, you're wasting valuable time that could be spent wearing down Tristan's mattress."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Rory woke up to a darkened room early in the morning. She turned her head and saw that she was alone. The bedside clock glowed 4:37am. She rolled back over to try to get a couple more hours of sleep before she had to get up, but she could hear piano music coming from down the hall. She sat up and looked around. She picked up Tristan's white shirt from the floor and put it on. She buttoned the shirt and headed out of the bedroom.

Tristan was sitting at his grand piano in his boxers and a wife beater shirt. Since it was so early he opted for his glasses rather than putting in his contacts. He was in his own world, focusing on the piece he was practicing. He was preparing for his upcoming concert, so he was testing his memory. His hands fluttered quickly over the keys while the phrase gained intensity as he ascended up the keys. Before the chord progression resolved to a perfect authentic cadence he caught a glimpse of Rory out of the corner of his eye. She was at the doorway watching and she had on his shirt . . . and nothing else. His focus shattered and he forgot what he was doing. He stopped and tried starting at the recapitulation again. He once again ascended the keyboard when he lost his concentration when Rory entered his peripheral vision. The unresolved phrase was starting to grate on his nerves like fingers on a chalkboard. He attempted the phrase two more times before banging his hands on the keys and looking up.

"I can't concentrate with you standing there like that," he said with a sexy morning voice. To Rory's chagrin he sounded annoyed with her.

"I'm sorry. I just heard you playing and my feet brought me here. I'll go back to bed," she said as she started to turn around.

"Mary, wait. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to lash out like that. Did I wake you?"

"No, I woke up on my own."

"You should probably try to get some more sleep before you have to get up for real."

"Yeah, alright," she answered and started to turn again. Tristan looked back down at the piano and sighed heavily.

"Rory," he said thickly and got up from the piano bench. She turned in time for him to trap her against the door frame. His lips captured hers and Rory wrapped her hands around his neck. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and he ran his hand down one of her bare legs and pulled her thigh up to his hip. He nibbled at her earlobe and lifted her other leg as well. With his hands under her bottom he waked to his bedroom. He laid her on the bed and covered her breasts with his hands. When his thumbs teased the aroused tips Rory let out a cry that was muffled against his lips and she arched into him. Tristan continued for a moment, but her reaction was all the invitation he needed. He removed his boxers and plunged into her. They started to move together fervently until they both went over the edge at the same time. He held her in his arms until their breathing subsided and their hearts slowed down. When he saw that Rory had fallen back asleep he untangled himself from her and walked back down the hall to continue practicing.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Rory woke up to her alarm two hours later and saw that she was once again alone in the king sized bed. Except this time she didn't hear a piano. However, a delicious scent wafted through the air. She sat up in bed as Tristan walked in carrying a tray with a plate of food and a mug of coffee. He smiled when he saw that she was awake.

"Oh good, you're up," he said as he sat down on the bed with the tray.

"You made me breakfast in bed?" Rory said with a broad grin.

"No, this is for me. You can help yourself to some in the kitchen," he said, sitting next to her and taking a bite from one of the pancakes. Rory gave him a murderous look.

"I'm joking, it's for you. Please don't look at me like that," he said, sliding the tray over to her.

"Don't joke about pancakes then," Rory said sternly. "These are good, you should have some."

"Good idea," he said sarcastically and went to bring another tray in for himself.

While they ate their breakfast, Rory went over her itinerary for her trip and Tristan listened carefully, making note of the small windows of time when she would be available for him to call her. Of course, he'd have to consider the hour time difference.

"Do you have everything packed and ready?"

"Everything except my toiletries, which I'll get after I shower."

"Sounds good. You know, I don't think you asked to borrow my shirt," Tristan said with a frown and unbuttoned the shirt Rory still had on. When it was off she looked down at herself, which was now completely naked. Tristan took a good look as well.

"Well, I'm going to go take a shower," Tristan announced as he got up and took off his own shirt. Rory stared at him, jaw dropped. Tristan looked back at her.

"Yeah, I take full responsibility this time," he said. He scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom with him.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Tristan and Rory walked quickly through the busy Hartford airport, Tristan carrying her suitcase. Rory looked professional in her grey pinstriped skirt suit with a crisp white shirt. They got to the terminal and Tristan spoke up.

"I must have put my contacts in the wrong eyes."

"Why do you say that?" Rory asked, fumbling with her ID.

"That looks like Logan Huntzburger," he said, nodding to a figure up ahead.

"Oh my God, what is he doing here? Wait, how do you know what he looks like?" she asked, turning to Tristan.

"Google," Tristan admitted guiltily. "What? His Facebook picture is a landscape. It was unhelpful."

"I wonder why he's here."

When Logan saw the couple he made his way over to them.

"Ace, there you are, I thought you'd have been here sooner."

"We got caught up with something and lost track of time," she answered, looking him dead in the eye, daring him to comment further.

"You must be Tristan DuGrey; it's nice to finally meet you. I'm Rory's boss, Logan Huntzburger," Logan said, extending his hand. Tristan shook it without a word.

"I hope you don't mind, but I bumped up our seats to first class."

"_Our_ seats? Logan, what are you doing here?" Rory asked.

"I decided to tag along. I miss being out in the field." Rory was nonplussed by the lie. "Plus, we work pretty well together if I remember correctly."

"Have you even done any research for this?"

"I thought I'd borrow yours, just like the old days. You don't mind, do you?"

"Whatever."

"Can I talk to you for a minute," Tristan asked Rory, speaking for the first time and steering her away.

"I can't say that I care for the situation," he told her when they were out of Logan's earshot. "I'm definitely only one half happy about your trip now."

"The ratio has shifted for me as well. I swear I'm finding out about this for the first time right now. But don't be worried about Logan and me dating in the past. It's ancient history."

"Yeah I know," he stated. "Wait, do you think _I'm_ the jealous one in this?"

"Well, sure. And I can understand, he _is_ my ex. But you have nothing to worry about, remember this morning?"

"Vividly," Tristan said with a wolfish smile. "Can I say good bye to you here, I'd rather not go back over there."

"Yes," Rory answered and Tristan grabbed her fairly possessively and kissed her fiercely. Rory was a bit weak in the knees when he finally ended the kiss.

"You know, there's a bathroom over there, we might have time if we're fast."

Tristan smirked. "Just wait until you get back, we'll _need_ more time, and you won't want me to go fast."

"I can't wait," Rory smiled.

"Hey, if you get some time to do a little sight seeing; you should go up in the arch."

"Are you kidding? After a couple of days with _him_, I'll want to _jump_ off the arch. Or push him off of it."

"In that case, maybe you should stick with the zoo."

"Will do. I guess I should get back, we'll need to board before too long," she said with a sigh.

"Ok," he said, kissing her again. "Take care of yourself, Mary."

"I will. I'll see you Wednesday. Don't forget you're picking me up."

"Oh, I definitely won't," he answered, finally letting her free from his arms.

Rory watched with a smile as he walked away from her. She pulled herself together and headed back over to Logan. They went through the security check and found their gate. They only had to wait twenty minutes before their flight was announced. They boarded and got comfortable in their first class seats. Rory gazed out the window to see the luggage being thrown into the bottom of the plane and she pulled out her iPod. Before Logan could engage her in conversation she plugged in her ear buds and chose a playlist. To make it perfectly clear that she wasn't planning on pondering the meaning of life with him, she also pulled out her tattered copy of _Anna Karenina_ and opened up to her marked page.

Maybe the flight wouldn't be so bad.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Two days later Rory sat at a table in the hotel restaurant. Logan had upgraded the hotel as well as the plane tickets. Her room in the Hyatt had an excellent view of the Gateway arch overlooking the Mississippi River. She was exhausted from being on her feet for so long the previous day. She was nursing her second cup of coffee and waiting for her order of French toast when Logan walked over to the table and sat down across from her.

"There you are, Gilmore. I thought maybe you were still asleep when you didn't answer your door."

"I've been here."

"I can see that. It's pretty early, isn't it?"

"Is it? I guess I'm just eager to get back."

"Home sick?"

"Something like that."

"You know, you did a great job yesterday. I read everyone's election reports before I went to bed last night, yours was very thorough."

"Thanks. I used some of the information from the interviews you did, it helped a lot."

"Glad I could be of service. It's just like old times, you and I helping each other to meet a deadline. We still work pretty well together don't we?"

"Some might say we're the Lewis and Clark of our generation," Rory said, digging into the French toast that had been placed in front of her.

"I didn't get to hear about the other state's election results last night. I went straight to bed when I got back to my room. What were the results?"

"Seven tea party candidates won around the country."

"Hmm, while here in Missouri the insiders won. Both winning candidates for the Senate race are relatives of former governors. I've also found Missourians to be socialists."

"How so?"

"They voted against Prop C about health care. But without universal health care the tax payers will foot the bill if anyone without health insurance has to go to the emergency room and can't pay. See? Socialists."

"Good point. Of course that proposition is unconstitutional."

"Yeah. But they're sending a message to Washington."

"True enough. Hey, I need to return some calls before we leave for the airport."

"I'm good to go. Just meet me back here when you're ready."

"Alright, I'll see you in a little while," Logan said and headed back up to his room.

Rory was finished eating her breakfast when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She took it out and answered.

"My favorite daughter has time to talk to me, what an honor," Lorelai said on the other end.

"It happens every now and then, what's up?"

"I was thinking of coming out to St. Louis before you come back."

"Why?" Rory asked slowly.

"Because then you could 'meet me in St. Louis, Louis, meet me at the fair'," Lorelai sang.

"How long have you wanted to sing that?"

"Ever since you told me you were going there. How has the trip been going?"

"Pretty well, considering."

"Considering what?"

"I'm not here alone. Logan came along for the ride."

"No! Why did he do that?"

"Apparently we've always made a great team and he misses being out in the field. Personally, I think he's just gone crazy."

"Does Tristan know he's there with you?"

"Of course; Logan was there when Tristan brought me to the airport."

"How'd he take it?"

"Better than I would have expected. I guess he doesn't feel threatened by Logan."

"That's a relief. I'm barely even disappointed that they didn't fight over you in the middle of the airport."

"Because that would have been mature."

"It would have been a good story."

"Too bad I'll miss out on that."

"It is too bad. So when to do you get back?"

"Our flight leaves Lambert airport at 12:30. So we should be back late this afternoon."

"You should come to Stars Hollow Friday night for dinner and a movie marathon. I'll even let you bring Tristan if you can't stand to be away from him."

"I'll definitely be there; but Tristan has to baby-sit his nieces this Friday."

"Well then I'll put you down as Gilmore, party of one."

"Ok, I'll see you then. I should probably go, I see Logan coming back."

"Glare at him for me."

"Sure thing, bye Mom."

"Bye Rory."

**A/N:** Patience, grasshoppers.


	12. Welcome to the Jungle

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 12:** Welcome to the Jungle

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Welcome to the Jungle**

Rory hung a right and gained speed down the ramp. She was headed north on the 91, heading back home. Her step-sister sat in the passenger seat next to her.

"I can't thank you enough for showing me around Yale. It was so much more personal and informative than a tour guide would have been."

"My pleasure. I love to go back whenever I can. My grandparents always go to the Harvard/Yale football game, so I'm guaranteed at least one trip back per school year. Have you started applying to colleges yet?"

"I've only _just_ started. I'm still waiting for some of the applications to come in the mail. And after I _do_ finish them I'll still have a ton of work to do what with applying for scholarships and finishing up my senior year. I mean, it's a jungle out there right now!"

"Welcome to the rat race. I remember that it _is_ a lot of work. Where are you applying?"

"UCLA, Stanford, Harvard, Princeton," April ticked off the list on her fingers, "and Yale, of course."

"That's pretty many; you _will_ have your work cut out for you."

"I know and if I get into just two of those schools I'll have no idea how to decide between them. My mom, of course, would like me to go to UCLA or Stanford since those are on the west coast—closer to her, but it would be amazing to go to Harvard or Yale. I have no idea how I could possibly choose. Deciding will be more confusing than the Wars of the Roses. How did you do it?"

"I made pro and con lists for the schools. It pretty much decided for me."

"Well I'll be making some major lists this spring."

"You have plenty of time to worry about college stuff later, for now let's think fun thoughts."

"Good idea. I'm so glad I get to go to Lane's bachelorette party tonight! This was a great time to be visiting Dad. And tomorrow I'll finally get to meet your boyfriend."

"Yeah, I can't believe you haven't met him yet. But you weren't here for the engagement party, so you missed him. Oh my gosh, you would not believe what I walked in on him doing last week."

"Uh, I'm not sure I want to know what you might have walked in on!"

"Oh, don't worry, it's nothing like that. I went over to his apartment and went in after I knocked. He turned the television off really quickly, too quickly, like he didn't want me to see what he was watching. So I ask him, and he's like, "I wasn't watching anything, Mary." That's what he calls me sometimes, Mary, but that's a different story. Anyway, I wrestled the remote away from him and turned the TV back on and do you know what it was? It was _Days of Our Lives_! Can you believe that? He was watching a soap opera!"

"It's not every day that you see a grown man keeping up with the stories."

"I know! He claimed that his college roommate's girlfriend always used to watch and he'd sit through it with her."

"A likely story."

"Seriously. He's really upset with Bo and Hope right now, whatever _that_ means."

"I wouldn't know. So he's a pianist, right?"

"Yes, a very good one. Actually, he has a concert this afternoon at the college where he teaches. Do you want to go to it?"

"Will we have time to get back to Stars Hollow?"

"We'll have plenty of time, let me just call him," Rory said, picking up her cell phone and dialing. She pressed the speaker phone button so she could focus on driving.

"Tristan DuGrey," the voice on the other side of the line answered.

"Rory Gilmore."

"Hey, I didn't think I'd hear from you today."

"Well it's your lucky day, because we're going to come to your concert today."

"We? You and April I take it."

"Yes, we're dying to hear you play."

"Oh really? Well I hope I don't disappoint."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

"You're right, I will be."

"Ok, we'll see you in a little while."

"I can't wait."

"Bye."

"Bye."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The recital hall had a decent crowd that afternoon. Rory and April found seats in the front half of the auditorium and sat down. Tristan came out and performed his first piece. Rory thought she recognized it as the one she had listened in on while he was practicing over the summer. She heard the familiar phrase and said a silent prayer for Tristan to not forget what he was doing. However, she need not worry, because he played it perfectly. Not only that, but she swore he was smirking as he played it. Rory was glad it was dark because she felt her face grow warm at the memory. Tristan played two more lengthy pieces before he was finished. When he had exited the stage for the last time Rory and April filed out of the auditorium behind the other audience members. They stood out in the lobby for a while before Rory heard a familiar voice calling her name. She turned and saw Tristan down the hall, gesturing for them to join him.

"Hey there," Rory greeted. "Tristan, this is April."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you. I loved your Ravel piece, it was really beautiful."

"It's nice to finally meet you too, and thanks. The Ravel is one of my favorites that and I've been playing for years."

"Well, it was all great. I don't think I could have picked a better time to be in town."

"It's true, we're going to party it up Stars Hollow style with Lane tonight," Rory added.

"I'll bet you are. What time does that get started?"

"Around seven-thirty. We won't be out too late though; Lane doesn't want to be in terrible shape for tomorrow. We have to get her back to her mother in one piece."

"Well tomorrow _is_ her pretend wedding."

"Yeah, plus Dave made up a list of things he doesn't want to happen at her bachelorette party. Something to do with them already being married."

"No stripper then?"

"Yup. Actually, that's the whole list right there. How'd you guess?"

"Just voicing my own concerns."

"Don't worry; I won't leave you for some exotic dancer."

"Oh, well thanks."

"No problem. So this is your office, huh?" Rory asked as she looked around the room Tristan had led them to.

"Yup, this is where the magic happens," Tristan said, glancing around the office. There was an upright piano along one wall and a desk with multiple stacks of papers along another. There was picture of Tristan with his nieces on the shelf behind his desk.

"What is this, a self portrait?" Rory asked, pointing to a picture on the wall above the piano. It was of a man on stage playing piano, with many swooning women in the audience.

"No, that's a caricature of Franz Liszt. He was the Elvis of his day. He's my favorite piano player and composer. Plus, I can relate to his popularity," Tristan answered self-importantly.

"I'm sure you can. There _were_ pretty many people here today to see you."

"Yeah, but you have to consider that all those students were here to knock out some recital attendance. Most of them try to get their ten concerts out of the way as soon as they can. Or at least, that's what _I_ always did. I'm actually surprised there were as many people as there were, considering it's a Friday afternoon. A lot of students go back home for the weekend as soon as their last class is over."

"I guess you lucked out today."

"I guess so."

"Well my dear, it's been swell, but we should be getting to Stars Hollow."

"Okay, thanks for coming. It was nice to meet you, April."

"It was nice to meet you, too."

"Have fun tonight ladies."

"We will," Rory answered. She gave him a quick kiss before she and April left.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A short time later the girls were pulling up to the historic Stars Hollow house. They went in and found Luke in the kitchen making cookies.

"Hey girls, how was the tour?" he asked in greeting.

"Great, Yale has a beautiful campus," April answered.

"So do you think you'll go there?" he asked eagerly.

"Dad, calm down, I haven't even turned in the application yet, much yet been accepted.

"Yeah, but you're one of the smartest kids I know, they'll have to accept you."

"You have to say that, you're my dad."

"Well it's true," he said as a blue blur streaked through the kitchen.

"Is that my son or an extra from _Avatar_?" Luke asked.

"I'm not sure, I don't have my 3-D glasses on," Rory answered, her eyes on her little brother. "Jeremy, why are you blue?"

"We're painting my room!" he answered enthusiastically, holding up his paint covered hands before heading out the door.

"As though there isn't enough going on this weekend, Lorelai thought it would be a good idea to do some interior design work," Luke explained.

"Well I'm sure it couldn't wait," Rory commented as her mother came running into the room, looking all around.

"Where is he? We aren't finished with his room! He can't just be off the hook like this!"

"He's four," Rory told her. "Did you expect his attention span to be better than yours?"

"Maybe. Are you ready for tonight?"

"I think so, are you?"

"Definitely. We're going to have a great time. And Luke is making us cookies, try one," Lorelai said, picking up two cookies from the table and giving one each to Rory and April. "And don't worry about the eggs he used. If any give us salmonella poisoning I'll personally go to Iowa to fight a chicken. It'll be more epic than anything you've ever seen on _Family Guy_."

"Oh my God, what's in this?" Rory asked after taking a bite.

"It's not crack," Luke answered before Lorelai could swallow her own cookie.

"That's what he keeps saying, but why else would I have eaten seven already?"

"I told you, there's coffee in them. And since you're addicted to coffee, you've been acting like a crack addict since you've eaten them," Luke told her.

"I'm not addicted, I can stop any time I want," she told him defiantly.

"I'll bet," he retorted doubtfully. He looked out the window and saw a small blue figure on a bicycle riding down the sidewalk. "Your prisoner is escaping."

"I'll go make sure he doesn't ride into traffic," April offered and headed out the door.

"Why is the TV on so loud?" Rory asked, realizing for the first time that she was talking excessively loud to be heard over the odd noises coming from the living room.

"So we could hear from Jeremy's bedroom," Lorelai answered.

"What's there to listen to? All I hear is grunting. What is it?"

"An amazing movie called _Cavemen_. I just found it when I was surfing channels."

"Ah, and being cavemen, they haven't developed a language yet," Rory deducted.

"Yes! But you should really just read the description the network gives, I can't give it the proper explanation it deserves," Lorelai said. Rory grudgingly walked into the living room and pressed the appropriate button on the remote.

"A caveman steals the girlfriend of a competitor, fights a dinosaur, and invents rock music," Rory read. "If that's not cinematic gold, I don't know what is. Hey, is that Ringo Starr?"

"Yes it is, alongside Diane from _Cheers_. And if that doesn't do it for you, up next is a movie where a young Brooke Shields is captured by a sheik in the Sahara Desert in the 1920s."

"That sounds . . . great."

"I know; I wish we could stay and watch, but we'll be busy with the party."

"Darn."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Four hours later the girls had finished watching a movie on the big red couch and were now sipping wine and eating Luke's cookies at the former Gilmore home.

"It's too bad Paris couldn't be here tonight," Lane commented.

"Yeah, she had to work late. She works late a lot now that she's a hot shot lawyer."

"So that means some poor paralegal is on his or her way to a nervous breakdown any time now," Lorelai said.

"Pretty much," Rory agreed. "She'll be here tomorrow though. She's riding with Tristan to the wedding."

"And how _is_ Tristan?" Lane asked with raised eyebrows.

"He's fine. April and I actually went to his concert this afternoon."

"He was awesome. You guys should really make him play some time while he's here," April suggested. "Rory, tell them the story about his niece."

"Yes, tell us the tale!" Sookie chimed in.

"Alright, well, he's really close to his brother, Matthew, and his sister-in law wanted to name their baby after Tristan. The baby was born in July, close to his birthday."

"They wanted to name it after Tristan? April said this was story about his niece, not nephew."

"Tristan can be unisex," Lane reasoned. "Maybe if you spelled with an I instead of an A it would be more feminine."

"Well, they went with Trista."

"That's cute."

"Yeah, she's a cute baby, too," Rory added.

"I hope you don't think she's too cute, I'm way too young to be a grandmother," Lorelai warned.

"Don't worry; you don't have anything to worry about."

"I think that Chilton skirt I hemmed up for you a few months ago begs to differ," Lorelai argued.

"Rory, you're going to give me more details about that later," Lane told her friend.

"We'll see," she answered. Just then, her phone rang. "Speak of the devil."

"Hey! This is a girl party, no boys aloud, even on the phone!" Lorelai protested.

"Calm down, maybe it's an emergency. Hello?" she answered as she got up to go into the next room.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt your party, but guess where I am," Tristan said.

"Your apartment."

"No."

"My apartment."

"No. Why would I be in your apartment when you're not there?"

"I don't know, you told me to guess. Where are you then?"

"Dave's bachelor party."

"How did you get there?"

"I took a right on Fifth Street and a left down Oak."

"You're funny, but don't quit your day job. You know what I meant."

"His party is in Hartford and he looked me up to see if I wanted to join them. I didn't have any plans so I accepted the invite," he explained.

"So what's happening?"

"Not too much, we're just sitting around at one of Dave's friends, playing cards. He's had a little to drink and now he's going on about Lane having second thoughts."

"How can she have second thoughts? They're already married."

"Yeah, we keep reminding him, but he's worked himself up a bit. He thinks she's changed her mind."

"Hold on. Lane!" Rory called, "You're going to show up to your wedding tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, why?" she answered.

"No reason. See, she's fine. Tell him she'll meet him at the alter tomorrow."

"Great, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow as well."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, bye."

"Bye Rory," Tristan said and they both hung up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Ok, close your eyes," Rory instructed Lane the next day. They were up in Lane's old bedroom, preparing for the ceremony.

"Alright, now open and take a look in the mirror."

"I look good," Lane commented appreciatively.

"No, you look great. Those Kardashian girls and Bristol Palin will be jealous when you're on the next cover _Us Weekly_."

"I can't believe I'm getting married in a few minutes."

"You're already married," Rory reminded her.

"I know, but everyone is here for this one. I know we already did it, but this is the ceremony I'll remember, the one with all of my family and friends," Lane said nostalgically, getting teary eyed. "Oh no, I'm about to start blubbering worse than Glen Beck."

"Here's a tissue. And don't worry about your make-up, I can apply more. That's what I'm here for."

"Thank you so much for being my maid of honor!"

"You're welcome; I know one day you'll do the same for me."

"Maybe it'll be sooner rather than later," Lane said with one raised eyebrow.

"Oh, well, I don't know about that," Rory said with a smile.

"You never know. Just look at _me_, one month I'm running into Dave and the next we're married."

"Well, no matter what happens, when the day comes for me to get married, you will be my matron of honor."

"And I'll bear the title proudly," Lane said with a broad grin. Just then, Lorelai entered the room.

"It's time to rock and roll," she told the girls.

Lane stood up and the two Gilmore girls helped her get down the stairs without tripping on the short train of her white gown. They made the brief walk over to the church, where a crowd of Stars Hollow denizens and many Koreans were gathered. Lorelai snuck back over to where her family was sharing a pew with the Belleville's. When the music started, Rory began her walk down the aisle. As she passed Paris and Tristan, she smiled at him, which he returned with a wink. Everyone then stood and turned to the back of the church. Lane made her way down the aisle at what some would call a brisk walk. She joined Dave at the alter with the minister as the music wound down. Everyone sat back down and the ceremony began.

Afterwards, the whole town was sitting at a few dozen tables under a large heated tent. The twinkle lights that always made the town glow were shining in the trees, on the tent, and around the gazebo. Lane and Dave were seated at a private table at the center of the party.

"Did you tell your family about your big idea for Thanksgiving?" Paris asked Rory loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear.

"No. Tristan doesn't think I'm ready for the undertaking," Rory answered solemnly.

"What undertaking?" Lorelai asked.

"Tristan has taught me to cook some things, so I thought it would be fun if we prepared the Thanksgiving meal for everyone."

"What can you make?" Sookie asked. She sounded both interested and offended.

"Meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. Oh, and I've gotten really good at mashing potatoes," Rory answered proudly.

"I'm not sure that's what the pilgrims had in mind at the first Thanksgiving," Paris said with a snort.

"Hey! I said I can mash potatoes! Mashed potatoes were pretty much the most important food item at the fist Thanksgiving! What history book have you been reading?"

"How about Luke and I cook the meal as usual and you guys just relax," Sookie suggested.

"I guess that could work too," Rory conceded with a pout. "But I think you're really stifling my burgeoning talent."

After everyone had finished eating and the cake was devoured, the tables were moved for dancing. Everyone watched as Lane and Dave danced the first dance together.

"And now, ladies and gentleman, the bride and groom would like for you to join them on the dance floor," Kirk announced from his DJ's booth. Couples all around stood up and complied. Tristan led Rory over to the dance floor as well.

"You look really pretty today," he told her as they swayed with the music.

"Thank you, Lane let me choose whatever dress I wanted, and Maureen Dowd said that every girl needs a red dress. It was either this or the outfit Lady Gaga wore at the Grammy Awards."

"You chose well."

"Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself."

"You already knew that though," he said with a grin.

"Yeah. How was the bachelor party last night?"

"Not too bad, considering I didn't know anyone very well. But I guess it's never too late to make new friends."

"No, it's not."

"Maybe next week I'll invite them to hang out in my tree house."

"You could camp out and everything."

"I'll get working on the 'No Girls Allowed' sign as soon as I get home."

"No girls at _all_?"

"Not in the club house, no. Sorry, it's just the rule. But that doesn't mean I couldn't sneak away when everyone else is asleep; if the right offer came up, that is."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rory remarked in a sultry voice and pressed her body closer to Tristan's. His body involuntarily let her know her proximity was welcomed.

"Speaking of sneaking off, how long are you obligated to stay here tonight?" he whispered in her ear.

"I offered to help clean up after everyone is gone."

"You're too nice for your own good, you know. It's really a shame, because I have a room at a nice little inn not too far from here."

"Oh really?"

"Really really. And the proprietor gave me her word that my room would be free of bedbugs."

"And she sounded like a credible source?"

"You would know more about that than I would. Besides, even if she wasn't, Kirk was there checking the pest situation."

"Kirk _does_ know pests. If he checked things out, who are we to question his expertise? We could be back before anyone notices we're missing."

"My thoughts exactly," Tristan agreed as he tugged at Rory's hand. She didn't need much encouragement though as the two slipped off into the night.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lorelai made her way though the crowd of dancers with a beverage in each hand.

"Does Beyonce know about you two? Because she'll probably be asking you to be in her next video," she told Miss Patty and Babette as she walked by.

"Please, I taught her everything she knows," Miss Patty replied.

"Alright, I have a beer and a punch. Jeremy, I'm afraid I can't remember which one was yours," Lorelai said when she made it back to the table.

"Give me that," Luke said as he took the alcoholic drink from his wife before she could give it to their son.

"You won't let me have any fun," she sulked.

"I'm just trying to keep you out of jail. I won't interfere next time."

"Thank you. Hey, have you seen Rory?"

"I think I saw her and Tristan walking away from the tent earlier. I'm not sure where they were going though," Luke answered.

"I love that you don't know," Lorelai told him.

"What?'

"Nothing," she answered as the couple in question walked over and took seats at the table. Lorelai just smiled at them.

"What?" Rory asked when she noticed.

"Oh nothing, did you two have fun _dancing_?"

"Yeah, but we're pretty tired now. It seemed like a good time to take a rest."

"I'll bet you're tired," Paris leered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Rory!" Lane called from a few yards away. She made her way over to their table and gave Rory a hug.

"Lane, congratulations!"

"Thanks. I just wanted to thank you all for coming today."

"The pleasure was ours," Rory stated.

"I wanted to make sure I saw you before we leave the reception. Tomorrow we're heading to our apartment in New York. I have to clean out all the floor boards in my room."

"That's a daunting task."

"I know. Anyway, I want you to come visit us some time in New York."

"Definitely."

"Oh, and you should bring Tristan. Dave keeps telling stories about things he said last night. Did you know Dave invited him to his bachelor party?"

"Yeah, I heard about that."

"I really wasn't being funny," Tristan cut in. "Dave had just enough to drink to find everything anyone said hilarious. He's kind of a light weight."

"Well, either way, you both should come for a visit."

"I'll let you know when we're free."

"Great! I should go find Dave. He was slightly tipsy when I last saw him and I don't want him running into Mama. He'll probably spill the beans about being married for six months already."

"Ok, have a safe trip."

"We will," Lane said before returning to her husband.

**A/N:** According to my recent calculations, this story his half complete.


	13. November Rain

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 13:** November Rain

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**A/N**: I know this update is right on the heels of chapter 12, but it's been in my head for five years, when I had the idea for the story, so I knew what I wanted to happen (as well as what the chapter title would be).

**November Rain**

Rory pushed her chair back from the table and sighed heavily. Tristan looked at her from his seat next to her.

"Are you finally full?"

"Yes. I'm completely stuffed. I can't even look at another roll. I can't believe you didn't stop me earlier."

"I tried to warn you, remember? But you insisted on having seconds of the sweet potatoes."

"Well I _had_ to. There were marshmallows on top, you saw."

"I did. I had one helping and as a reward, I can still move."

"I could move if I had to."

"Mm-hmm."

"Who wants pumpkin pie?" Felicity asked as she entered the dinning room carrying a pie in each hand and a tub of Cool Whip in the crook of her arm. Without a word Rory raised her hand as though she was in school. Tristan gave her a withering stare.

"What?" she asked him, but he just shook his head as his answer.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it today. I know you had to eat with Rory's family earlier," Felicity said.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this," Tristan told his sister-in law.

"And I'm used to attending several Thanksgiving meals in one day. In fact, two is nothing, we're just lucky my grandparents didn't invite us over as well. Today was a breeze."

"Except you ate your weight in turkey and mashed potatoes," Tristan argued.

"You just hush," Rory warned, pointing her finger at him.

"Fine. But don't expect me to carry you to the car later."

"You will if I ask you to!"

"We'll see."

"Rory, we loved your coverage of the midterm election earlier this month. We followed all of your articles," Louisa DuGrey said from across the table. Her husband sat next to her with a little girl on his knee.

"Yes, your pieces were always very insightful," Janlen agreed.

"Thank you so much," Rory accepted the praise gratefully.

"It's nice to see young people working so hard these days," Tristan's father, Andrew complimented. Tristan looked up in surprise, wondering if he was included with those 'young people.' "I noticed the political section of the _Journal Inquirer_ got a new editor recently, I was surprised to see that it wasn't you, Rory."

"Oh, well, one of my co-workers got that promotion, he's been writing about politics longer than I have."

"Maybe next time," Janlen said. As everyone enjoyed their pie, a baby started crying in the next room. Matthew got up to tend to his youngest child.

"She needs her diaper changed," Matthew yelled from the living room. "I think she wants her godfather to change it for her."

"No she doesn't," Tristan yelled back. "She misses you when you're at work all day, she told me earlier. So you should probably do it. I'd feel awful if I stole this valuable bonding opportunity from you."

"I hadn't realized she'd gotten so talkative lately."

"I know. And at only four months. She might be a child genius," Tristan called out as his brother returned with the baby.

"Here, she's changed. You can take her for a while," Matthew said, handing Tristan his namesake.

"Are you ready for your trip to your alma mater next week, Tristan?" Louisa asked.

"Mostly. I reminded all of my students that we won't be meeting next week. I still have to finalize what I'm going to play at the concert though. I have it narrowed down to three pieces. I'm really honored that they want me to come back at all. They have plenty of graduates to choose from."

"Well, they wanted the best," Janlen said proudly.

"Yeah, and now I have to brush up on my French because of it. Oh, and I still have to arrange for someone to take care of my cat for a few days," he said, looking across the table at Marietta on her great-grandfather's knee.

"NO!" Matthew and Felicity exclaimed at the same time. Tristan looked over at Rory with what she interpreted as an attempt at innocence.

"Would you like for me to check in on Isolde for you?" she asked, taking a hint.

"Could you? That would be so nice of you."

"What can I say? I just can't say no to that face," she told him.

"I'll keep that in mind for later," he said quietly so only Rory could hear.

"You do that. But you know? I'm not sure Isolde likes me very much."

"What makes you think that?"

"She runs away from me most of the time, plus I know I've heard her hiss when I sit on the couch with you."

"She's just jealous. Maybe she thinks I'm going to give you her tuna. But don't worry; you'll hold all the power when you're operating the can opener."

"Well alright, I'll try to make friends."

"Good, I'd really like for you two to get along."

"I'm sure that by the time you get back Isolde will prefer me over you."

"It's good to have dreams."

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Later that night, Rory laid in bed as Tristan turned off the lights in his room. He climbed onto the bed and under the covers to join her. He rolled over to look at her in the dark.

"Thanks for coming over to my brother's today."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"Oh, I didn't invite you, Felicity did," Tristan said playfully.

"Ha ha. Well I was glad to have been included," Rory said with a smile.

"Me too. They like us."

"They have to like _you_, you're their relative."

"Well they like us _together_ then."

"I like us together too. Tristan?"

"Yeah?" he said sleepily.

"I'm really thankful that I ran into you with my car this year."

"I've always been thankful for that," he answered as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Rory was working on her article for the next issue of the paper late Monday morning. She made a list of people she planned on interviewing. Two she could call, but the third would be best to do in person. She called the appropriate offices and made appointments with secretaries for later that day. She carefully made the notes on her day planner and grabbed her lunch. She peeked out of her office to see what the weather was like and picked up her umbrella when she saw that it was still pouring out.

Rory was going to go over to Tristan's to keep Isolde company for an hour while she ate. She drove over to his apartment and let herself in. She wondered if the key he gave her would stay in her possession when he returned. She called the cat and shook a bag of Mew Mix to encourage the feline. Isolde came running into the kitchen and Rory swore the cat looked disappointed at seeing that it was not her owner yet again.

"I know, it's just me. But I think we could be friends if you just gave me a chance," Rory told the cat. Isolde just looked up at her and meowed expectantly.

Rory poured the cat food into a dish on the floor and changed the water in the other bowl. She went to the living room and turned on the TV. She changed the channel to CNN and went back to the kitchen to eat her lunch with Isolde.

"If you're really good, there's a can of tuna with your name on it for later," she told the cat as the phone began to ring. She let the answering machine get it after several rings. Rory felt like she was eavesdropping, but there really was no avoiding it.

"Hey Tristan, this is Eileen. I've been thinking about what you said and you're right. We _are_ really great together. So . . . let's do it, let's give us another shot. I can't believe you chose me again, we drive each other crazy! Crazy in a good way, of course. Anyway, I have to go. Call me when you get back from France."

Rory's legs felt like jelly when she heard the phone hang up. She stared at the answering machine in disbelief. Who the hell was _that_? Whoever the voice belonged to was _definitely_ a woman. That much was clear. And Tristan had been in contact with this Eileen, because she knew he was out of the country. Rory looked down at Isolde, as if wondering what the cat's thoughts were on the situation. However, the cat continued to eat as though nothing had happened. Rory put her sandwich down, unable to eat any more of her lunch. She sat quietly for ten minutes, unsure of what to do. She no longer heard what Cooper Anderson was droning on about in the next room. She tried to put what she heard out of her head and stood up. She threw away the rest of her lunch and turned the TV off.

Rory left the apartment and drove to her first appointment for the afternoon. She was a bit early, so she sat in the lobby and stared into space. When the official was ready she walked into his office and began the interview. Her notes weren't as extensive as usual and she had trouble concentrating on the answers to her questions. When the interview was complete she returned to her own office to conduct her two other interviews over the phone. They went similarly to her first interview though. Rory quickly typed up the story and sent it Logan to be published that night.

"Logan, I'm finished with my story, I'm going to go home a little early today," she told her editor as she stood at the door to his office.

"Okay. Are you feeling alright, Rory?" he asked when he looked up at her.

"I'm fine, I just have a headache," she answered.

"Alright, go home and get some rest."

"I will. Thanks."

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Rory was lying on the couch with a blanket and a carton of _Ben & Jerry's_ Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream when Paris walked in that evening.

"Uh oh. What's wrong with you?" Paris asked as she hung up her coat and took off her suit jacket.

"What makes you think something is wrong with me?" Rory countered.

"Well you're covered up on the couch with a half eaten, half melted carton of ice cream, for starters. So I'm guessing you've been sitting here for a few hours."

"So what if I have?" Rory asked as she grudgingly sat up.

"What happened? Did Logan do something at work today? Was he being his usual jackass self? No, I know, he took your story and gave it to someone else, didn't he?"

"No. It wasn't Logan."

"Alright then, did Tristan say something to upset you when you two talked on the phone?"

"I haven't talked to _him_ today. I turned my phone off when I got home."

"Alright, I'm getting warmer. I think I have fourteen questions left, I'll get there yet," Paris said, sitting down. "If he didn't say something stupid then what was it? Did you find dirty magazines when you went to his apartment to feed his cat today?"

"No."

"Come on, Rory! Are you seriously going to make me guess?"

"You brought it up! I didn't want to talk about it!"

"Well Tristan clearly did something to upset you, so why don't you just tell me so we can bad mouth him together?"

"Will you go over there with me?" Rory said in a small voice, looking down at her hands.

"Over where?"

"To Tristan's, I want you to hear something."

"Now? It's getting late," Paris protested, but she stopped when she saw the look in Rory's eyes. "Okay, let's go. I'll drive."

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

"Hey Tristan, this is Eileen. I've been thinking about what you said and you're right. We _are_ really great together. So . . . let's do it, let's give us another shot. I can't believe you chose me again, we drive each other crazy! Crazy in a good way, of course. Anyway, I have to go. Call me when you get back from France," the woman on the answering machine said. Paris looked down at the machine with furrowed brows.

"I'll admit, it doesn't sound _good_," she told Rory, who was sitting on the black leather couch with her arms wrapped around her legs.

"I know. And who is this Eileen woman? Do you know her?"

"No, I have no idea who she is. It sounds like Tristan knows her though."

"I figured _that_ out for myself, thanks."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you here."

"I know; I'm sorry."

"I'm going to make a suggestion that you may not like."

"What?"

"You could call Tristan and ask him about it," Paris said carefully. Rory just stared at her.

"I can imagine it now. Hey Tristan, it's me, your girlfriend. Only one person comes to mind, right? You're not seeing more than one girl are you? Don't answer too quickly because the other one just left a message on your answering machine today when I was at your apartment," Rory ranted angrily.

"Well you wouldn't have to say it like that."

"Then how?"

"You could say that someone named Eileen left a message today when you were here and just listen to his reaction."

"And if he plays it cool? Does that mean I trust him?"

"Maybe. We don't know what the call was about. It was pretty ambiguous."

"Maybe for _you_."

"It would be for you too if you weren't completely in love with him," Paris half muttered.

"What?" Rory demanded.

"Nothing. I'm just saying; try not to jump to any conclusions yet. You don't know for sure that he's seeing anyone on the side. This could be completely innocent."

"And you really believe that?"

"I'd like to."

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

The next day Rory was in her office, staring at her computer screen. She wasn't attempting to type anything, she wasn't checking her e-mail. She was just sitting there. She lowered her gaze to her telephone. She chewed at her bottom lip and contemplated the powers it held when it suddenly rang. She jumped and her heart started to pound. She still hadn't turned her cell phone back on.

"Hello," she answered uncertainly.

"Rory, Logan wants to see you in his office right away," Joyce said on the other end.

"Oh, okay. Do you know what it's about?"

"No, but he doesn't sound happy."

"Okay, I'll be right down," Rory said before hanging up and heading down the hall.

"You wanted to see me," she said when she got to Logan's office.

"Gilmore, have a seat," he said sternly. "One of your sources called today. He said you misquoted him in the article you wrote yesterday."

"Really? I'm so sorry, I must have written it down wrong."

"You never write things down wrong. You don't look much better than you did yesterday afternoon, Rory. Is something the matter?"

"No, I'm just tired. I didn't get very much sleep last night," she answered tonelessly.

"Get your coat."

"What? Why?"

"Go get your coat; I'm taking you to lunch."

"You really don't have to. I'll call and apologize for the misquote."

"No, I already did. Now I'm your boss and I'm telling you to go get your coat. So go; I'll meet you in five minutes at my car."

"Fine," Rory said and got up to leave the office. She didn't have the energy to argue about it.

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

"Now tell me, what's really wrong today?" Logan asked as he started to eat his sandwich.

"It's really nothing," Rory answered, taking a large gulp of her beverage.

"Ace, you're drinking a Long Island Iced Tea."

"So?"

"So it's barely noon and you've already slurped down half. If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is."

"It's just. . . I heard something I don't think I was supposed to yesterday."

"What, like when you were doing your interviews?"

"No, when I was in Tristan's apartment during my lunch break. He's out of town and I'm taking care of his cat."

"So what did you hear?" he asked her. Rory didn't say anything for a moment, but the alcohol had loosened her lips.

"I heard a message on his answering machine. It was a woman. I think Tristan might be seeing someone besides me," Rory explained dejectedly.

"Who is this other woman?" Logan said defensively, sitting up straighter.

"I don't know, just some woman."

"Rory, you don't deserve this. You deserve to be with someone you can trust. You shouldn't have to wonder if he's sneaking around with some other woman," he went on vehemently.

"I thought I _could_ trust him. I really thought he would be different," she deplored, tears starting to fill her eyes.

"Different from whom? You're not talking about me, are you?"

"What? No, I'm not talking about you at all."

"Then who?'

"No one. I'm not talking about anyone else, you misunderstood me."

"Well it doesn't matter. You still shouldn't have to share a guy with some other woman," he told her. Rory flinched slightly at his words.

"You're right."

"Hell yes, I'm right. This tramp might even know about you, but just doesn't care if she destroys your relationship," Logan went on. Rory wasn't sure if it was the Long Island Iced Tea that she just finished off, but Logan's words were having an odd effect on her.

"I have to go," she said suddenly, putting her coat back on and picking up her purse.

"What? I drove you here and you're a little drunk, where are you going to go?"

"I just have to go; I won't be at work this afternoon. I need to go somewhere," Rory insisted quickly.

"Rory, sit down. You have no one to drive you."

"I'll catch a cab; I just have to go, _now_."

CCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Rory pulled up to the old house and got out of her car. She had to run through the rain that was still coming down to get to the door and knocked twice before opening it. Luke was sitting in the living room with his son and nephew, the TV was on at a reasonable volume. Jess was visiting for a few days after Thanksgiving, though truth be told he had just about all the Stars Hollow he could handle. Jeremy was sitting very close to Jess. Jess only looked slightly uncomfortable at the proximity of his young cousin. Everyone in the room looked up when they heard the door slam shut.

"Rory? What are you doing here?" Luke asked, baffled at the unexpected sight of her.

"Where's Mom? I need to talk to her."

"She's in the kitchen going over bills from the inn. What's wrong, you look awful."

"Did I hear a knock at the door?" Lorelai asked as she walked into the room.

"Mom, there you are. It's over, it's all over!" Rory cried into Lorelai's shoulder as she clung to her mother.

"Rory, what is this? What's over?"

"It's over with _Tristan_," she said between sobs.

"I don't understand, he's in France right now, how can it be over?"

"Did he break up with you over the phone?" Luke asked angrily.

"No."

"Then you broke up with _him_?" Lorelai asked with furrowed brows, trying to understand what was going on.

"No. I haven't talked to him since Sunday night."

"Rory, let's sit down. And I'm going to need more details," Lorelai said soothingly as she led her daughter to two empty chairs. All eyes were on Rory.

"Now what happened? And start from the beginning."

"You know that Tristan went to Paris to perform at a gala to raise money for scholarships at the university. He was invited to play since he's a graduate. So he left Sunday and I've been checking in on his apartment and feeding his cat. Yesterday I went over during my lunch break and I heard someone leave a message on his answering machine. God! I wish I'd never heard it!"

"So who was it?" Jess asked from the couch.

"I don't know, some girl named Eileen."

"Well what did she say?" Luke asked.

"Something about how great they are together and how he chose her again. Clearly he's keeping another girl on the side!"

"Have you talked to Tristan about it?" Lorelai asked.

"No. I turned my cell phone off yesterday."

"So, you're not completely sure what the message was about?"

"Isn't it obvious what it's about? You're not on his side are you?"

"Of course not, I'm just wondering what else it could be. I don't know Tristan all that well, but I've seen him with you. This just doesn't make much sense."

"Of course it makes sense! He's Tristan! He always used to have at least three girlfriends at once. How did I ever delude myself into thinking he could have changed? I actually believed him when he told me he didn't have much time for dating. I am such an _idiot_!"

"You are not an idiot. If he fooled you, he fooled all of us. I mean, even Jeremy wouldn't stop hopping around acting like a frog after Tristan taught him _Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog_. He even insisted on being a frog for Halloween because of it."

"I actually didn't mind that," Luke piped in. "What? It was better than your idea."

"Hey, I still think he could have been your Mini-Me. He only would have needed a flannel shirt and a baseball hat! You can't get much easier than that," Lorelai protested.

"Rory, I'm so sorry about this," Luke said consolingly. "You know, he excused himself to take a phone call last week before dinner was ready. I heard him practically begging someone about something. He could have been talking to that girl. I _knew_ he wouldn't be any better than Logan. All that stuff he said at Lane's engagement party was just an act. I don't feel bad about calling him out now. I don't."

"Maybe he's not even in Paris for a gala, it could be his cover story," Jess commented. "He's probably meeting up with Tiger Woods and Jon Gosselin to compare notes."

"Well, I heard Bill Clinton was going to be their keynote speaker," Luke added.

"Statler, Waldorf, you're not helping," Lorelai said to them.

"Sorry," both men said together.

"To think I may have actually—," Rory stopped mid-sentence.

"You may have what?" Lorelai inquired.

"Nothing. I just cannot believe I thought he could be monogamous," Rory went on with disgust. "I should go get myself checked out for a venereal disease. And you know what? Speaking of Logan, he took me to lunch today. He said I don't deserve this."

"Well, for once I agree with him. You don't."

"He said this _other woman_ probably didn't even care about what she was messing up for me," Rory explained, Lorelai looked contemplative at those words. "That's actually why I'm here. I need your help."

"Anything, just name it," Lorelai said eagerly.

"I was wondering if you could help me find someone."

**A/N**: Please don't be shy now, tell me what you thought. And don't worry, the next chapter is in my head in the same way this one was (I already have the outline written).


	14. Estranged

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 14:** Estranged

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**A/N**: Some observations on the reviews from chapter 13: First off, thanks to those of you who took the time to comment, I appreciate it greatly. Second, regard for Rory is not high, which I found amusing. Third, I did not fool a few of you . . . smarty pants. Last, there was one awesome conspiracy theory that I really enjoyed reading. Anyway, read on.

**Estranged**

Tristan sat on the plane and shifted for what seemed like the millionth time since he'd been on the flight. Just when he found a semi comfortable position he checked his phone, for what also seemed like the millionth time. He saw that there were still no voicemails or missed calls and sighed; he ran a hand through his hair and laid his head back on the seat. The middle aged man sitting next to Tristan gave him a look; he was probably impatient for the blonde to finally pick a position and stay there for more than two minutes. This trip was way too long for all of this movement.

The trip to Paris had gone well enough. Tristan saw some of his fellow alumni and most of his professors. He chose a piece that everyone enjoyed hearing, so the concert went off without a hitch. It would have been nice to have told someone about it all, he thought with annoyance as he looked at his phone again. He hadn't heard from Rory since he landed in France late Sunday night. After that he kept getting her voicemail and she apparently hadn't tried to contact him. He was really starting to worry about what was up. Hopefully her phone was just dead or malfunctioning . . . or something like that.

The plane landed in Hartford just before noon. Tristan went to the baggage claim and had to wait quite a while before his suitcase came around the conveyer belt. Or it may have taken no time at all; he was so exhausted he really wasn't a good judge of time right now. He found his car in the parking lot and drove home. When he took the key out of the ignition he wondered how he ended up there, seeing as how he barely remembered making the drive. He entered his apartment and looked around for some kind of note or sign that Rory had been there; he didn't even notice that his cat hadn't come running out to meet him as usual, he was _that_ tired. When he couldn't find a note he went to his answering machine and pressed play. He stood with his arms folded across his chest as he listened. After hearing the first message he rolled his eyes, sometimes he surprised himself at his persuasive powers. There were two more messages before the last, which was when he finally heard Rory's voice; he listened attentively to her message.

"Tristan, hi, it's me. You should be home pretty soon. I had to go out of town; it was kind of a last minute thing. I left Isolde with Paris at our apartment. And Tristan, when I get back, we need to talk. I'll see you in a day or two."

We need to _talk_? Tristan thought with a scowl. We sure as hell _do_ need to talk. We need to talk about how you haven't picked up your damn phone in four days, for God's sake. We need to talk about how you call your boyfriend before you leave town for a day or two. A day or _two_? How do you not _know_?

Tristan looked down the hall to his bedroom longingly and groaned. There was nothing he wanted to do more than go to sleep for about a week. In fact, make it two. But he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the present situation nagging at him. So instead he went back down to his car and made the ten minute drive to Paris and Rory's apartment. He was confident that no one would be there, but he still wanted to check to be sure. He slowly made his way up the flight of stairs and knocked on the door marked 201. When there was no answer he reached for the spare key above the door frame and let himself in. Isolde came running into the living room and sped up when she saw that it was finally Tristan. He knelt down and rubbed the cat behind her ears.

"Hey, Isolde. Where's Rory, huh? Did you drive her away? I'm starting to think someone did. And since _I've_ been out of the country, my bet is on _you_," he said before standing back up. He walked around the apartment but found nothing useful. His hopes weren't high, in any case. He was pretty sure Paris would be too busy to answer her phone right now, so he left her a note on the kitchen counter and let himself out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Tristan sat in his car for a minute, considering who would know where Rory was. Only two people came to mind and he growled a little at the thought of the geographically closer person. He begrudgingly started his car and drove to the _Journal Inquirer_. He got out of his car and walked though the front entrance and went to the reception desk.

"Hi, is Logan Huntzburger in?" he asked Joyce.

"Yes, would you like to speak to him?"

"No, but I'm running out of options, so I guess he'll do," he replied tiredly. Joyce called Logan and the man came out a minute later.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Logan asked in a hostile tone when he saw who had requested his presence.

"I'm looking for Rory; do you know where she had to go?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, but I _do_ know one thing."

"What's that?" Tristan asked in a bored voice. He was pretty sure this one thing was the _only_ thing Logan's brain held.

"I know she went because of _you_, you bastard," Logan retorted with venom in his voice. "Rory just wasn't enough for you, was she?"

"_What_?" Tristan asked. His face was scrunched up in complete confusion.

"Don't act like you don't know!"

"Well since I _don't_ know, I'm not acting. Just answer my question: Do you know where she is or not? I'd really like to go," Tristan said impatiently. He looked down at Logan, who had invaded his personal space during the course of their conversation, if that's even what their unpleasant exchange could be called.

"No, but even if I did I wouldn't tell you," Logan said with narrowed eyes. "Now I think it's time for you to leave my building."

"You mean your _dad's_ building," Tristan said with scorn. Being as tired as he was, his reflexes were pretty slow. So he didn't have time to dodge Logan's fist, which met his face after his last comment.

"Joyce, call security, this guy's persona non grata from now on. I want him gone," Logan yelled, he looked away just long enough for Tristan to get a hit of his own in. While Logan was occupied with his bloody nose Tristan stalked off toward the exit.

"Ass hole," he muttered as he went out the door.

When Tristan got a look at his eye in his rearview mirror he sighed and ran his hand through his hair yet again. He could see that his eye was slowly starting to swell and change color, so he switched out his contacts and put on his glasses. Good thing they were still in the car, he thought grimly.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that I did something wrong," he said out loud to no one. "I wonder what it was."

He wasn't looking forward to his next stop in this insane goose chase. If Logan was willing to punch him, who knew what Luke and Lorelai were going to do? He drove into Stars Hollow and went straight to the inn. When Michel told him Lorelai wasn't there he headed to the diner, not because Michel was super helpful or informative, but because he had a hunch. He wasn't feeling very good about entering the diner, either. But at least he might figure out what the hell was going on. When he walked into the restaurant, Luke looked up and his face went stony. Lorelai saw his expression harden and turned around. She wasn't overly surprised to see Tristan standing there. She was, however, surprised at how ragged he looked. She turned back just in time to jump up quickly to intercept Luke before he could cause Tristan physical harm. From what Lorelai observed, Tristan had already been the victim of violence recently. On the other side of the diner Miss Patty looked up at the three people eagerly and pulled out her cell phone. On the other side of the window Kirk was shushing the ice cream customers so he too could watch the scene play out.

"What are you doing here?" Luke demanded of his unwelcome customer.

"For the second time today, I'm just trying to figure out where Rory is. You know where she is, will you just tell me?" Tristan asked in a low, tired tone of voice.

"If she wanted you to know she'd have told you," Luke said angrily.

"Fine, I give up. Will you answer this then: What did I do? If someone would just tell me that, maybe I could fix it," Tristan said with his hands up in surrender.

"So you admit that you _did_ screw up!"

"Not really, but if everyone thinks I did something, then maybe I did. And you'd have to admit, it's pretty impressive if I can do something wrong from almost four thousand miles away."

"Don't get smart with me. And why don't you try to figure out what you did on your own? Or here's a better idea: maybe Eileen can help you figure out what you did."

"Eileen? How do you know about _her_? And how could she help me?" Tristan asked with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. The wheels in his head were moving too slowly to figure anything out on his own this afternoon.

"So you admit that you _do_ know her?"

"Well yeah, but how do you know about her?"

"Tristan," Lorelai said, speaking up for the first time, "did you listen to your messages when you got back home?"

"Yeah, that's how I know Rory left town. No can tell me where she _is_ though. That's why I'm here."

"So you heard the message Eileen left you?" Lorelai went on.

"Yeah, so? What about it?"

"You know Luke, I'm not sure Rory assumed right about this one," Lorelai told her husband carefully.

"We don't know that yet," he answered.

"What did Rory _assume_?" Tristan asked tensely. He was trying really hard to stay calm. "Eileen is just my old duet partner. I had to talk her into playing a Shostakovich duet we played years ago when we were in college."

Neither Luke nor Lorelai said anything at this, but Luke arched his eyebrows and Lorelai's lips made an 'o' shape at the explanation.

"That's what she said on the message? She said the part about playing a _piano duet_ together?" Lorelai asked.

"I don't know. I think so," Tristan answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you _really_ sure?" Lorelai asked. Tristan sighed and muttered under his breath as he dialed his own number in his cell phone. He pressed in the code so he could hear his messages again. He stood with one arm across his chest and the other holding the phone to his ear. His brows were knit together in concentration as he listened. He shook his head in disgust as he hung up the phone.

"Rory doesn't _actually_ think I'm cheating on her, does she?" he demanded angrily, looking from Luke to Lorelai. They both nodded their heads.

"And that's what _you've_ been thinking too?" They nodded guiltily again.

"Oh geez; that's really fucking fantastic," Tristan muttered sarcastically. "Why would she jump to that conclusion? Doesn't she know that I love . . . her?" Tristan asked, drawing out the last word slowly, somewhat surprised at the abrupt confession himself. He paused then, searching his memory for a moment.

"No," he concluded on his own, shaking his head. "She does not."

Tristan pulled his cell phone out again and dialed, this time he was calling a live person. Luke and Lorelai listened to the one sided conversation with interest.

"Hey, Eileen, it's Tristan," he growled into the phone. "Do me a favor, will you? When you leave a message on my machine, don't be so vague."

"Nothing," he answered. "I'm putting you on speaker phone; tell the nice lady and the angry man who you are."

"Tristan, what is this?" Luke and Lorelai heard the woman ask. "Am I being Punk'd?"

"No. Just do it," he said with gritted teeth.

"Ok fine. I am Eileen Stoltz-Faccolli."

"_And_?" Tristan beckoned for her to continue.

"And what? We went to college together?"

"Keep going."

"Apparently I'm your duet partner again," she went on, timidly now at the tone of Tristan's voice. "Tristan, what's wrong? Who am I talking to?"

"Don't worry about it," he answered and abruptly hung up the phone. He looked up to Luke and Lorelai with pursed lips and one raised eyebrow, as if to say _See_?

"Tristan, we're really sorry about this. Rory just heard that message and became distraught," Lorelai explained apologetically.

"Where is she?" Tristan asked clearly and evenly. Lorelai avoided his steely gaze.

"Where _is_ she?" he repeated.

"Chicago," Lorelai answered with a cringe.

"_Chicago_? What the hell is in Chicago? I know she isn't there for work. I already checked into that, unfortunately," he said, indicating his now black eye.

Luke shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know. However, a look to Lorelai told Tristan she knew more about it.

"Well?" he said expectantly.

"It's not my place to say," she answered sympathetically. Tristan just rolled his eyes impatiently at her unwillingness to share all of the information. "Tristan, why don't you let me put you up at the inn until Rory gets back? On the house, you look exhausted."

But Tristan shook his head in answer. "I _am_ exhausted, but no. I have a plane ticket to buy."

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

The large airplane met the ground with a thud. Tristan was jerked awake at the impact. He had finally fallen into a semi-conscience state for the last twenty minutes of the flight. It went without saying that it wasn't the rest he desperately wanted and needed; if anything, he felt worse. He filed off the plane and caught a cab, telling the driver the address to Rory's hotel. While he was unable to procure the reason for Rory's disappearance out of Lorelai, she did at least tell him where she was staying. When he got there he went straight to the front desk.

"Hi, I'm meeting my wife here and she's been in meetings all day, could I get a key to our room?" he asked the woman at the desk with what little charm he could muster.

"Certainly, what's your wife's name?"

"Rory Gilmore," he answered.

"It looks like you two are in room 524," she told him and swiped a key card. "And here is your key."

"Thanks," he said as he took the key. He tried to add a smile but knew it probably looked more like a grimace. On top of everything else he was going to have to lecture Rory about picking a hotel with a desk clerk who trusted too easily. For all the clerk knew Tristan could be dangerous. Actually, the last time he saw himself in the mirror he _did_ look dangerous. Or half mad at the very least. His five o'clock shadow was looking more like a ten o'clock shadow at this point in his journey and he had bags under his eyes.

When Tristan approached the door he knocked. No one answered and he couldn't hear any movement on the other side of the door, so he slid the key through the card slot and let himself in. His eyes swept over the room and found a small pad of paper on the night stand, next to the phone. He went over and read the note that was in Rory's handwriting. On the top sheet, a place and a time were written. A glance at the clock radio told him that he'd finally found the wild goose in his chase. He took the paper with the information and headed out of the hotel.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Tristan climbed out of the cab and had to walk down the block to get to the small café that was indicated on Rory's note. When he approached the building he slowed as he looked in the window. He felt his stomach drop and the blood drain from his face. Inside the café he could see his girlfriend hugging a horribly familiar tall brown haired man. Tristan ran his hand through his hair and muttered a few obscenities under his breath.

"Son of a bitch. This is un-_fucking_-believable," he said lividly. Even though it was painful to watch, he couldn't take his eyes off of Rory as she pulled away from Dean.

Tristan shook his head in repulsion and turned around. The freezing December wind blew at him as he skulked off back down the sidewalk with a terrible feeling of déjà vu.

**A/N**: There's a good chance that I know what you're thinking, but go ahead and tell me anyway.


	15. This I Love

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 15:** This I Love

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**A/N**: Poor Tristan, indeed. I thought the same thing as I wrote Chapter 14.

**This I Love**

Tristan threw the basketball as hard as he could towards the hoop. The ball hit the backboard and he caught it and tried again with the same result. He had walked a few blocks down the street after seeing Rory with Dean and he'd come upon a dimly lit basketball court. He found a basketball that needed more air sitting in the grass and had picked it up. Since then he was proceeding to launch it as hard as he could in the general direction of the basketball hoop. He didn't care that he was missing; he really just wanted to throw something. After a couple more shots he threw the ball at the ground and let it roll away into the dark. He stood for a few moments with his hands at his waist as he caught his breath and collected his thoughts.

"I didn't do anything wrong," he said with a shake of his head. He took a look around and wondered for the first time if this was even a safe place to be alone at night. He started to walk determinedly back up the street. With his current luck he would probably get mugged. He approached the café and walked up the stairs. He entered the establishment and looked around. Rory was sitting by herself at a booth with her back to the door, so she hadn't seen Tristan come in.

"Gilmore, I need to talk to you," Tristan shouted at her from the door. The few other restaurant patrons looked up to see the commotion. Rory sputtered on her coffee and turned around with wide eyes.

"Tristan, what are you doing here?" she asked, staring at him in disbelief.

"You said we need to talk and I agree, let's talk. But first where is he?" Tristan said as he closed the distance between them.

"Where is _who_?"

"Dean," Tristan spat. "I know he's here, I saw him with you, Rory. So where is he? I'm going to kick his ass; don't try to stop me!"

"He's gone," Rory answered.

"Well where did he go?" Tristan demanded.

"I don't know, home I guess," she answered with a shrug.

"Is this how it's going to be from now on? You hear some stupid message on my machine so you run halfway across the country to _that_ guy? Because that's really shitty of you, you know," he yelled angrily.

"I know," Rory replied in a small voice.

"You do? Well . . . good," he said, slightly calmer.

"Tristan, sit down," she said, glancing across the table she was occupying. "Please."

"Fine," he answered with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He sat as a waitress came over with glasses of water and asked if they wanted anything. Tristan realized that he hadn't had anything to eat in over twelve hours.

"Do you serve breakfast all day?" he asked her.

"We sure do."

"Great. We'll each have pancakes and I'll have some coffee."

"You don't know what I want to eat," Rory said in mild protest after the waitress had walked away.

"Well I want pancakes and I'm not sharing them with _you_," he explained as he reached over for her purse. He dug around until he found her small bottle of Ibuprofen and helped himself to three of the pills. He tossed them all into his mouth followed by a gulp of his water.

"Headache?" she asked sympathetically as she watched him.

"A little," he said pointedly. "_Seriously_ Rory? My duet partner leaves out some details on her message so you automatically think the worst of me? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Don't you trust me at all?"

"I know and I'm sorry. I just went crazy. I forgot everything I know about you now in exchange for everything I _used_ to know or assumed about you from a long time ago. It wasn't fair of me," Rory said, looking down at her cup of coffee.

"You're right, it wasn't fair. What made you change your mind then?" he asked as their food was delivered.

"A long plan ride."

"You think _you_ had a long plane ride? Try flying over the Atlantic Ocean after going four days without hearing from the one you love," he retorted off handedly as he poured syrup on his pancakes. Rory looked up at him slowly.

"What?" she asked and he looked back at her.

"What?"

"What did you just say?" Tristan had to think back briefly as he licked some syrup off of his finger.

"Oh, I love you," he answered simply. The side of Rory's mouth twitched into a small smile.

"Good, because I went crazy thinking the guy I was in love with might not be as in to me as I thought. It was like a bad dream."

"A dream like Dorothy in Oz or Cliff Huxtable eating a sausage sandwich before going to bed?"

"It was more like someone incepted my dream with a bad idea and I woke up confused. Anyway, I sat on that plane weeping and the man next to me made me talk about my problems. He asked what you ever did to make me think that you'd be unfaithful and I only had old stuff as evidence. Apparently the message I heard wasn't specific enough to get that upset. He wasn't impressed with me and said I threw you to the lions. So I sat there for a couple of hours and just thought."

"About what?"

"About . . . everything. You work so hard and spend whatever free time you have with me."

"Ah, so you know I'm not screwing around because I don't have the _time_?" he stated wryly. She was going to have to do a lot better than this.

"No, Tristan. I just trust you and I remembered that you _have_ changed," she said firmly. "So, your duet partner, huh?"

"Yes. That's all she's ever been. Well, we almost went out once, but she was into my roommate more than me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're married now."

"Man I was an _idiot_, from start to finish. I lost a lot sleep over this."

"I'm not exactly well rested myself right now. So . . . I love you and you love me and you figured out that I didn't cheat on you; why are we in Chicago?" Tristan asked. Rory glanced out the window and sighed.

"It was something Logan said actually." Tristan put his fork down and rested his chin on the top of his hands with his fingers laced together, giving her his undivided attention.

"I had an alcoholic beverage at lunch and told him what happened. He was actually the only one to believe in your guilt without question. Anyway, he kept calling Eileen the other woman."

"So? You thought that's who she was, why would that bother you so much?" Rory blushed and averted her gaze.

"Do you remember how I told you once that I got back together with Dean when I was in college?"

"Yeah, he took you V-card," he replied a bit sourly.

"Well, I didn't tell you that he was married at the time," she explained slowly and looked back up; Tristan's eyebrow arched in interest.

"Really?"

"Yes. I was going through a dry spell that year and I started regretting how we last ended things. The opportunity came up and I just jumped into bed with him."

"_You_ really didn't think about his wife at all? I find that hard to believe."

"I did, but he said things weren't working out and that's all I needed to hear at the time."

"He got married pretty young if you were still in college," Tristan observed.

"Yeah, it was less than a year after we had broken up," Rory explained. Tristan considered this new information.

"So he married his rebound girl. Clearly he wasn't over you, the idiot."

"It still doesn't excuse what _I_ did. They got a divorce because of me! And you know what? I asked him if he would have left her even if she hadn't found out and he said yes. But I don't think he was telling the truth. I can't believe I let lust take over like that."

"Lust can make you do dumb things. Like try to beat up some girl's boyfriend at a stupid school dance."

"Don't try to make me feel better; I was an accomplice in destroying someone's marriage. God, I'm a home wrecker!" she said desperately. Across the table Tristan started to laugh.

"What are you laughing at? This is _not_ funny! I ruined someone's life!"

"I'm sorry, but you just called yourself a home wrecker and I'm so worn-out; it just sounds so ridiculous! Come on, now. Don't cry," he said, handing her a napkin. She let out a tearful smile. "Everyone makes mistakes, Rory; no one's perfect. You have to forgive yourself."

"That's why I'm here. I forgave myself pretty quickly after it happened. I never thought about how his wife, Lindsey felt. I was so convinced that he was _my_ Dean that I didn't think about her. After all this time I finally felt like I was walking in her shoes. And it felt horrible. So I wanted to apologize. It's really the least I could do. I didn't think Lindsey would want to see me, so I wrote her a letter. I'm not sure if she'll read it though. I apologized to Dean. He wasn't super psyched to see me, either. You're the first person I've told, outside of my mother."

"Thanks for trusting me."

"Were you really going to beat him up?"

"Yup; I felt I had the right this time. Besides, it was either come back and fight him or go listen to _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ over and over. Violence won over self-pity."

"It looks like you've already suffered some brutality," Rory said, taking in the full sight of him. "Did you get into a fight already? What happened to you?"

"Oh, my eye or my hand?" he asked, taking a look at his bruised knuckles.

"Well I care about you, so your eye."

"Your boss."

"Logan _hit_ you?" Rory said in disbelief. "Why would he do that?"

"Because I made the mistake of going to the _Journal Inquirer_ to find out if he sent you somewhere on assignment; while I was there I insulted him. Plus there's that small fact that he thinks I cheated on you," he explained and then held up the back of his hand, "_I _was merely defending myself. Incidentally, I can no longer enter your place of employment without legal ramifications."

"I'm so sorry."

"You already said that."

"Well I am. You didn't have to come all the way here. I was going to tell you everything when I got home. When is your flight back?"

"I don't have one. I didn't know when you would be headed back and I wasn't going to go back to Connecticut without you."

"I wasn't sure when Dean would be able to meet me, so I still have to buy a ticket too."

"Let's go home, Mary," Tristan said. He left enough money to cover the bill on the table and helped Rory into her coat. He took her hand and they walked out of the café together.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Rory was at work rereading the first draft of her article on Monday afternoon when her phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey Rory, I just wanted to check in and see how things are going, I haven't heard from you in a couple days," Lorelai said.

"Things are fine."

"Yeah? How's Rip Van Winkle doing?"

"He's still asleep."

"Still or again?"

"Still. When we got in early Friday morning he showered, brushed his teeth, and went into hibernation. I've been checking on him during my lunch breaks to make sure he's still breathing. At last check he's still dead to the world."

"As far as you know."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe he's sleeping during the day and getting up at night when you don't know about it." There was a beat of silence before Rory answered.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Tristan is not a vampire."

"Hey, I'm just trying to look out for you. Maybe invest in some garlic or a crucifix. If he drags you to the next _Eclipse_ movie it's probably so he can see his people in action. I'm just saying," Lorelai rambled. There was another pause on the other end.

"Rory? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. I was just wondering when you have time to work."

"I get little moments here and there."

"Anyway, I had to call his university to tell them he's sick from his plane trip back from France. I might have to call a doctor to do a home visit if he doesn't wake up soon. Maybe he caught mono."

"Really? Now you're going to accuse him of a kissing disease _you_ never had? Haven't you put him through enough already?"

"Very funny, you know what I mean. And you're right, I won't bring up mono."

"Good call. How are things at work? Did Logan _really_ hit him last week?"

"Yup, right in the front lobby. I haven't gone out of my way to see Logan. I've been lying low ever since I got back; I've been avoiding the water cooler and whatever rumors have spawned there."

"So he doesn't know that things with you and Tristan are hunky-dory and that you're still together?"

"I haven't told him one way or another. It's really none of his business and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"And in a perfect world he'll respect that."

"Yeah," Rory replied with a sigh.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright, I should get back to work," Lorelai said.

"Yeah, I should too. Bye Mom."

"Bye."

Rory didn't have much time to focus on her work after hanging up though, because her phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Rory, I need to talk to you."

"Paris, what is it? I'm trying to work here."

"I need to talk to you about our apartment."

"What about it?"

"We are not running a boarding house or a kennel, Rory. How long is that creature going to be staying with us?" Paris asked hotly. Rory paused in thought.

"Are you talking about Tristan or his cat?"

"Either one, take your pick."

"Paris, Tristan has been asleep for four days, I can't pick him up and move him. And no one is at his apartment to feed the cat, so she's staying until he wakes up."

"It's not that I'm not thrilled about you and Chachi getting through your misunderstanding and all; I'm just saying that his prince had better come to break the spell pretty soon or I'm going to start charging him rent."

"He's in my room, how is he even bothering you?"

"It's the principle of the thing, Rory!"

"Fine, if he's still asleep when I get home tonight I'll try harder to rouse him."

"Good. I have to go, I'll see you later."

"Bye," Rory said and hung up the phone. She stared down the phone for a minute, daring it to ring again before concentrating on the work in front of her once more.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Later that evening Rory let herself into her apartment and discarded her coat and purse. She snuck back to her room quietly, but then remembered that she was going to wake up Tristan and therefore, didn't need to be so careful. However, she saw that she had nothing to worry about when she opened her bedroom door, because Tristan was finally awake. He was sprawled out on her bed in his grey t-shirt and plaid flannel pants, reading her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. His orange cat was napping on the floor next to the bed.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty, you're finally awake," she said with a smile as she sat down next to him.

"Yup," he answered, looking up at her.

"How are the Bennet's doing?" she asked, indicating the book.

"Oh you know; Elizabeth won't give this handsome wealthy guy the time of day. It's a shame, really, because Mr. Darcy is kind of a badass."

"That's true, he is. I'll think she'll come around though. Just give it time."

"Yeah, she will," he agreed. "I'm thinking of getting a top hat. I think I could pull it off." Rory laughed at the image.

"So how long was I out?"

"About fifteen years," Rory said seriously. "We have a son. He'll be so happy to see that his dad is finally awake when he gets home from school today." Tristan laughed lightly.

"Sounds like I woke up just in time to give him the talk about the birds and the bees. You've aged well, by the way. Did you find the fountain of youth?"

"No, I just have good genes," Rory beamed.

"So what are we going to do this weekend?" he asked as he put the book down on the night stand.

"What day do you think it is?" Rory asked skeptically.

"Friday," he answered with a shrug. "Why?'

"Tristan, today's Monday."

"_Monday_? I missed work?" he asked, now panicked.

"Yeah. But don't worry, I called your department chair and told him you had a stomach virus thing from the plane. He bought it."

"Oh man, why didn't you wake me up?" he groaned.

"I tried! I poked at you and whispered things in your ear that I thought might entice you to come out of your coma."

"What kinds of things?" Tristan asked with a smirk.

"Dirty things. I don't think I could ever repeat them."

"Remember how I love you?" he asked with an arched eyebrow as he pulled her closer to him.

"I _do_ remember," she answered, snuggling next to him.

"I think I'm rested up enough to show you how much now," he grinned as he removed his grey shirt and his lips descended on hers.

**A/N:** Yeah, I'll admit it; I never thought Rory showed very much remorse for what she did. Anyway, tell me things.


	16. Nice Boys

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 16**: Nice Boys

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews; I appreciate everyone who takes the time to leave them. So read this next installment and drop me a line. Pretty please, with sugar on top.

**Nice Boys**

Rory was in her office at her filing cabinet, meticulously filing away the past several articles she had written as well as the research she had done for them. She was halfway through her stack when there was a knock at her door. She glanced up briefly to see her co-worker, Jennifer, enter the office with a clipboard in her hand.

"Hey, Rory, I'm getting a head count for tomorrow night."

"What's tomorrow night?" Rory asked the dirty blonde, still concentrating on her filing.

"The company Christmas party, of course. You know it's been on the calendar all month. Plus, there's a party every year, you aren't new around here."

"Oh, well I guess I forgot," she said as she closed one drawer and moved down to the next.

"Anyway, Logan wants a final head count today. So, can I put you down for two?" Jennifer asked cheerfully.

"Two what?"

"Two _people_, Rory. Are you even listening to me here?" she asked, getting annoyed at Rory's indifference on the matter.

"That would imply that I was, in fact, coming to this party _and_ bringing an additional person with me."

"I know what it would imply Rory, it's right though, isn't it?"

"Who are you planning on me bringing?"

"Your boyfriend," Jennifer answered with a devious smile.

"I don't know; I really don't think Tristan is going to want to come to my work party; considering who I work for."

"Rory, you cannot _not_ bring the guy who broke the boss' nose to the Christmas party; no one will forgive you." Rory cringed at the statement.

"Tristan did _not_ break Logan's nose."

"Explain the surgery he had on it last week then."

"He said it was some sort of sinus problem."

"Sure that's what he _said_. He wouldn't want everyone to know that he got beat up by his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend."

"No one got beat up. And it doesn't matter; Tristan still isn't going to want to come to this thing."

"Couldn't you persuade him? You know, use some of your womanly wiles on him?" the girl pleaded.

"You're not going to leave me alone until I ask him, are you?" Rory asked with her arms crossed.

"Probably not. Come on, the worse that could happen is Tristan says no."

"No, the worse thing that could happen would be Tristan saying yes and then he and Logan have a round two," Rory argued.

"Well just ask him and let me know by the end of the day!" Jennifer said happily as she left before Rory could argue any more.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMM

A pen was being clicked over and over in Tristan's office. He didn't mind, considering he was the one doing the clicking. He was sitting at his L-shaped desk, looking at his computer screen, entering semester grades. He was double checking the class he had just finished when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he said, not looking away from the screen.

"Surprise!" Rory said as she entered his office. She smiled and sat down at the section of the desk that was between them.

"To what do I owe the honor of this spontaneous visit?" he asked when he turned to look at her, mirroring her smile.

"I thought we could have lunch," Rory said somewhat coyly as she sat a deli bag on the desk.

"That sounds nice. Is this the only reason?" he asked suspiciously as he leaned back in his swivel chair and took a good look at her.

"Why would I need another reason to visit my boyfriend for lunch?" she asked innocently, busying herself by taking the soup and sandwiches out of the bag and carefully averting her gaze. Tristan didn't respond, choosing instead to lace his fingers together and place his hands on his desk; he continued to look at Rory with his head cocked to the side.

"Okay, fine! There's a Christmas party tomorrow night for work and I was wondering if you would go with me," she explained quickly. She bit her lip and looked up at him.

Tristan continued to stare at her.

"We'd only have to go for a little while, you know, to put in an appearance," she continued to ramble. "Will you just say something!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. Tristan smirked at her.

"A work party, huh?" he finally said.

"Yeah. It's not a big deal, just drinks and hors d'oeuvres. And mingling with my colleagues."

"Your colleagues," he repeated slowly with a raised brow. He didn't sound thrilled. "And I'm sure this would include the editor of the _Journal Inquirer_?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Well, yeah, he _is_ the one throwing the party, so he'll be there."

"I don't know Rory," he said skeptically.

"I'm not really dying to go, trust me. But a lot of my co-workers want to meet you. Or at least gawk at you from across the room."

"You know I'm still banned from your work. Persona non grata," he stated matter-of-factly.

"You sound pretty proud about it."

"I'll admit that it does make me feel pretty dangerous; you should probably be careful around me."

"Noted. But that reason won't work; the party isn't at the office, it's at a banquet hall."

"Technicality," Tristan said, considering this as he rubbed his chin. After they had returned from Chicago two weeks prior he hadn't shaved the overgrowth of facial hair. He was now sporting a neatly groomed beard.

"It'll cost you," he finally answered. Rory scrunched up her face in confusion.

"What will it cost me?"

"What do you have to offer?"

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"I can think of a few things," he leered at her.

"Okay, how about this: you go to the party with me in exchange for special birthday sex," Rory suggested. Tristan reflected on the offer.

"Will you wear the Chilton uniform?"

"Of course."

"Alright," he slowly agreed, "it's a deal. Bear in mind though, I'll be missing _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ for this."

"I'll owe you double, just put it on my tab," she answered before eating a spoonful of her soup. "So, do you think you'll shave for the party?"

"No, I don't think I will," he said stroking each side of his face with his hands. "Don't you like my winter beard? I think it looks nice."

"It doesn't look bad, but it's rough. You know, my grandparents almost got a divorce over a moustache once."

"Richard and Emily almost split up over facial hair?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, okay, there were other factors. But Grandpa's moustache was a spark."

"So it was like the assassination of Franz Ferdinand."

"Exactly, it didn't cause World War I, but it triggered it."

"I think we'll be okay though. Besides, it's keeping my face warm in the cold weather."

"But it hurts _my_ face!"

"Ah, well, love is pain."

"You look like you need a pipe, professor."

"Christmas is coming," he replied with a smile. "I see a stocking stuffer in my future."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Rory leaned against a tall table and sighed. She was wearing the red dress from Lane's wedding, it was festive for the current season; she only had to add a black cardigan to keep warm. She checked the watch on her left wrist. Tristan had given her the watch for her birthday in October; it had small diamonds imbedded in the band and was perfect for fancy events such as this.

Logan had, of course, gone all out for the party. There were groups of elaborately decorated giant Christmas trees in the corners of the banquet hall and large wreaths hanging from the doors. Festive white lights were strung everywhere imaginable. He even had a Santa Claus come for his employers with young children. Rory had to admit, she was getting into the Christmas spirit tonight.

Her co-workers were milling about with cocktails in their hands, making small talk with each other and introducing their significant others. She smiled and nodded at a few as they walked by and wondered where her own significant other was. She felt her phone vibrate in her purse and pulled it out to answer.

"Hey, where are you?" she asked Tristan.

"I'm here."

"No, _I'm_ here, by myself. You, on the other hand, are missing in action."

"I'm in the parking lot, I just got here. Do I really have to come in?" he groaned.

"Yes, you promised. Remember the Chilton uniform!"

"I _do_ like the Chilton uniform," he mused sullenly. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute."

"Good," she said as she hung up and put the phone back in her purse. She suddenly felt nervous about being with all of her colleagues, what with the rumors that had been swarming around the office over the past couple of weeks. She scanned the room to see where Logan was, unsure of how he would react to Tristan's appearance. Luckily, he was across the room, engrossed in conversation with some of the businessmen who provided the paper with advertisements. She looked over at the door as Tristan walked in. He looked extremely handsome in a black suit with a red tie to match her dress. She walked across the room to meet him halfway and he gave her a not entirely chaste kiss hello as a greeting. She chose to ignore the other party goers as some of them looked from Tristan to Logan, as though they were watching a tennis match.

"I'm not too late am I?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope, you're just in time. Now, we'll just make the rounds, I'll introduce you to some of my colleagues, and then we'll be out of here. I'll bet _some_ people won't even notice we're here. It'll be completely painless," she said as she led them to the small round table where she had been standing before he arrived. She glanced across the room and saw Logan look up at her. She saw his face harden when he saw that Tristan was with her and she silently willed him to stay on the other side of the room.

"Do you want something to drink?" Tristan asked as they stood at the table.

"Sure, the bar is right over there," she said, pointing to a corner of the hall.

"Oh, I know where the bar is; it was the second thing I located when I walked in."

"Well I'm glad I ranked higher than the alcohol," Rory stated sardonically. Tristan just gave her a grin. "But I guess we'll have to get through the night some how."

"That's right," he agreed as he walked away. Rory stood alone for a couple of minutes and turned just in time to see Logan walk towards her.

"Hey, Ace. I'm glad you could make it tonight. Where'd DuGrey go, did he need to run home to watch _Glee_?" he asked snidely.

"He's just over at the bar getting us drinks," she answered calmly. "Although, judging by your knowledge of the programming schedule, I have to ask: do _you_ need to get home to watch it?"

"I see you made up," he continued, ignoring her question. "Is that a good idea, trusting him again?"

"Yes; it was all just a misunderstanding. I jumped to the wrong conclusion; but everything is great now," she answered firmly. She felt her pulse quicken as Tristan returned with a drink in each hand.

"Huntzburger," Tristan nodded civilly.

"DuGrey," Logan answered curtly. Rory timidly looked from one man to the other, wondering why Logan insisted on coming over to make things awkward.

"Here's your drink, Mary," Tristan said as he handed the wine glass to her and took a sip out of his own glass. Logan's expression became perplexed.

"I think I'm missing something here," he said with furrowed brows.

"What's that?" Tristan asked, not comprehending the other man's confusion.

"Her name is Rory," Logan enlightened.

"Funny, I didn't think _you_ knew that," Tristan half muttered; Rory patted his arm.

"Mary is just an old nick name," she explained hastily.

"How old could it be? You two only just met this year."

Tristan grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "He doesn't know," he stated with delight, turning to Rory.

"Well, no, not the back story."

"I don't know what?"

"How we met," Tristan answered.

"Actually I do; I thought it was at your concert this past spring, but apparently it was before that."

"Yeah, we had a minor traffic accident. Can I tell him the rest?" Tristan asked Rory. She tilted her head to give the okay.

"You see, ten years ago I was ruling the halls of Chilton Academy when Rory here transferred during our sophomore year. Paris and I were never the same again."

Logan appeared taken aback by the revelation, which Tristan enjoyed immensely. "Ah, so you have a little history. That was nice of Rory to give an ex-boyfriend another chance."

"Oh, we never dated back then," Rory said adamantly.

"No, see, I _used_ to be a jerk," Tristan said. "She tried to stay far away from me; much to my frustration. For some reason she didn't like the way I referred to her as the virgin mother every time I saw her. It's kind of an endearment now though."

"I see."

"Fortunately for Rory, my father pulled me out of school when we were juniors. I was a troubled youth."

"Oh yeah? Maybe we've attended some of the same boarding schools then."

"That's not likely. I was educated by the fine drill sergeants of North Carolina. Sometimes it takes military school to beat some discipline into a person."

"It was pretty serendipitous for you to meet up again after all this time."

"Isn't it though?" Tristan said cheerfully.

"You know, while I've got you here, I want to apologize. I shouldn't have hit you the other week," Logan said. "I was out of line and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I hit you back," Tristan said, returning the gesture.

Just then Jennifer came hurrying over to the three. "Rory, oh my God, I'm having huge girl problems!"

"Uh oh, what is it?"

"Well, I'm about to pull a Janet Jackson with a major wardrobe malfunction, for one thing; and the other I'd rather not divulge with the present company," she explained, shifting her eyes to the two men, who cringed at the thought of girl issues.

"Alright, well, there's a restroom over there, come on. I'll help fix you up," Rory said calmly. She sat her drink down and looked back at Tristan, giving him a questioning look, wondering if he'd be okay without her. He raised his glass and tilted his head, giving a small grin. Logan continued the conversation after the two girls left; Tristan grudgingly turned back to him.

"Oh man, you know what's awful?"

"The Holocaust?" Tristan supplied wryly, which caught Logan off guard.

"Uh, yeah. But I was actually going to say that I should have hired you."

"Hired me to do what?" Tristan asked, bewildered. "I don't think I'd make a very jolly Santa tonight; I've had a long day—lots of students disregarded key signatures."

"No, the musical entertainment," he said, nodding in the direction of a young man playing the grand piano on the other side of the room. "Now I feel bad for not giving you my business."

"It's alright; I'm not offended at all."

"Sure, but I'll bet performing isn't always stable work." Tristan wondered if Logan had been in contact with Emily Gilmore.

"I do just fine; besides, the teaching is stable. Plus, even if I didn't give many concerts, _my_ trust fund is healthy," Tristan said, thus indicating that he knew of the business failure Logan had had after college.

"What can I say; sometimes you have to take risks in life."

"I agree," Tristan replied and scanned the large room; his eyes fell on Rory. She had reemerged from the restroom with Jennifer, crisis diverted. "I took a risk this year and so far it's working out better than I ever could have imagined."

"So we see eye to eye."

"I'm sure stranger things have happened." There was a pause as Logan looked around at his party.

"I want to make something clear," Logan said seriously.

"What's that?" Tristan asked, looking back to the other man, sensing some aggression.

"You may have gotten lucky this one time, but if anything ever happens again—," he started, but was cut off.

"Nothing happened in the first place," Tristan said resolutely.

"You know, you and I aren't so different. I'm sure you'll manage to slip up some time. And when you do, I'll be here waiting." Tristan narrowed his eyes at the proclamation.

"Don't hold your breath; there will be no slip ups. I'm not some passing attraction, so get used to it," he said with a steely look at Logan.

Without another word, Tristan picked up Rory's drink from the table and walked over to where she was standing with some of her co-workers. Rather than insisting on them leaving, he introduced himself and joined in the conversation. He wanted to make it perfectly clear that he wouldn't be scared away. They mingled for another forty five minutes and then Rory said the magic words.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" she asked, turning to him.

"More than you know," he whispered in her ear.

"Come on, it wasn't _that_ bad," she said as they walked toward the coat closet.

"No, but wait until I tell you about the conversation _I_ had while you weren't around. But first, let's get _you_ into a cute little plaid skirt so I can take it right off," he leered, ushering her out the door.

MMMMMMMMMMMMM

Several nights later, snow fell lightly outside St. Augustine Catholic Church in Hartford. The recessional music played within the church as the priest and his acolytes exited the large structure. The churchgoers followed, bundling up with their scarves and hats as they left the warmth of the building and stepped out onto the snow covered ground. Tristan and Rory were amongst the crowd, along with the rest of the DuGrey family. Tristan held a sleeping Louisa on his left hip; Rory smiled and looked up at the sky when she saw the white flakes falling all around.

"It's a white Christmas!" she said excitedly to Tristan.

"I ordered it just for you," he answered with a grin at her enthusiasm.

"Thank you! Does this mean we're giving out presents now?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope, you'll have to wait until tomorrow night when I see you." She pouted at his answer.

"That's not fair! It's already Christmas!"

"What are you, five?"

"I like to think of myself as young at heart, thank you very much."

"Well you still have to wait. How did you like midnight Mass?" he asked as they migrated to the parking lot.

"It was really beautiful. That church is amazing; the stained glass windows probably look pretty when the sun is out. Why don't you go more often?"

"How do you know I don't sneak out for Mass early every Sunday morning?"

"Do you?"

"Now and then. I could be better about it," he said as he handed his niece off to her father so he could put her into the back seat of their SUV.

"I didn't hear you singing very loudly," Rory commented. Matthew smirked when he heard her observation. Tristan glared at him.

"I have great musical talent, it's true. But it does _not_ extend to my vocal chords," he explained.

"I see," she smiled at him. They bid the rest of DuGreys a Merry Christmas before his family headed home, Tristan adding that he'd see them tomorrow. He and Rory stood at his car as the other vehicles filed out of the parking lot.

"Well milady, I think it's time for me to get you to Stars Hollow. At this rate we'll interrupt Santa putting the presents under the tree at your house."

"Don't worry, Santa can usually be quelled with a cup of coffee. You really don't have to drive me, I can make it myself," Rory told him, lacing her gloved fingers with his.

"It's no problem; besides, I don't want to worry about whether or not you made it safely," he answered, pulling gently on her arms, forcing her to step closer to him.

"Well as long as you don't mind," she said, making no move to get into the car as the snow continued to fall on them.

"I don't," he said, looking down into her blue eyes. He started to lower his head when she dropped his hands so she could wrap her arms around his neck and her lips met his. Tristan wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground a few inches. A few moments later he groaned quietly against her lips as they came out of their embrace. He rested his forehead against hers and looked her in the eyes again.

"I love you," she said quietly with sparkling eyes.

"I love you too, Rory. Now let's get going, before I change my mind and take you back to my place instead," he said, giving her a quick kiss and opening her door. He walked around to his side and took a last thoughtful look up at the church before getting into his car.


	17. Think About You

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 17**: Think About You

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**Think About You**

Paris was sitting at a card table in the living room on a Friday night; she was working on a one thousand piece puzzle of a farm scene. Rory walked in from the hallway and sat down next to her. She assessed the situation and tried to place a red piece into the puzzle.

"That doesn't go there," Paris said.

"I was just trying."

"Well I think Yoda or someone said something about there being no trying."

"Sorry," Rory said, putting the piece back with the others of similar color.

"So what time is the kid being delivered?"

"Mom is dropping off my _brother_ any time now."

"I'm impressed that she talked Luke into taking a vacation."

"I know, but they deserve it, they both work so hard all the time."

"Yeah, don't we all?"

"Paris, you can take a vacation any time you want, you know."

"No I can't, I'm too important."

"Okay then, your mini vacation on the jigsaw farm will just have to do then."

There was a knock at the door and Rory got up to answer. Lorelai and Jeremy stood on the other side, duffel bag in tow. Rory let them in and the boy started to take off his winter layers.

"Are you ready to have a fun weekend with me, Jeremy?" Rory asked.

"Yes!" her brother exclaimed, moving towards the table Paris was working. Paris glared at him.

"Watch out kid, I think she bites," Lorelai warned.

"Are you ready for your relaxing weekend get away?" Rory asked Lorelai.

"_I _am."

"Luke isn't?"

"Oh, he's ready, but Caesar is freaking out as we speak. He's going over the check list with Luke, again. Every time the list gets a little longer. I should probably get going before Luke decides he can't leave the diner at all," she explained. "Come here, Jeremy, give me a kiss before I go." The boy hugged and kissed his mother before returning to the puzzle table.

"Hey, he got a couple of pieces in here; he's better at this than you," Paris commented to Rory.

"Great, I see the first hour of this baby-sitting gig is taken care of."

"Alright, I'm going," Lorelai said. "Bye."

"Bye," Rory and Paris said together as Lorelai left the apartment.

"I ordered pizza a little while ago, it should be here soon," Rory told her companions.

"Excellent, you're such a good provider," Paris stated.

"I try."

"What did I tell you about trying?"

"Again, I apologize," she said before the phone rang; causing no one to move. "Don't worry, I'll get it. Hello?"

"Rory, thank God you're home, I don't know what to do," Lane said on the other end.

"What's up?"

"I'm late."

"Late for . . . ?"

"_Late_ late," Lane stressed, giving no further explanation.

"Oh. Is it on purpose?"

"No! We've only been married for three months!"

"Actually . . . nine months," Rory counted in her head. "I don't know how you keep forgetting that."

"Either way, it hasn't been very long!" Lane said hysterically.

"Okay, just calm down. How late are you?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe a week or two."

"I'm going to guess that you have not told Dave?"

"You guess correctly."

"Okay, here's what you're going to do: you are going to go to your local CVS and buy a home pregnancy test. Then you're going to go back home and use said test and read the results."

"Then what?"

"Then you'll deal with the results. Because you're an adult and you're married."

"That's true; I am both of those things."

"Oh, and if it's positive, you might want to tell Dave at some point. Preferably before October, although by then, he'll hopefully know that something is up."

"Right. Okay. CVS?"

"CVS. Go now. Tell me how it turns out."

"I will. Thanks Rory."

"No problem. Bye."

"Bye."

"Lane's expecting?" Paris asked after Rory hung up the phone.

"Maybe."

"They didn't wait for anything, did they?"

"Nothing's definite yet."

"I guess time will tell," Pars said as there was a knock at the door. Rory answered and signed for the pizza. She took it into the kitchen and got out plates and drinks.

"Come and get it," she called out to Paris and Jeremy. The two joined her in the kitchen and they ate their Friday night meal together. Paris and Rory watched Jeremy as he picked off the mushrooms and onions.

"Mom must be so proud," Rory commented dryly. Her cell phone vibrated and chimed from the counter; she got up and opened the phone.

"Oh no, Tristan isn't feeling well," she said after reading the text message.

"What's wrong with him? He isn't pregnant too, is he?" Paris asked.

"I'm not sure what's wrong, he just said: can't bond over, sick. He didn't even use auto text to change bond to come. I'm telling him to get some rest. I'll check on him tomorrow; it looks like it's just the three of us."

"What's the plan, Stan?" Paris asked Jeremy.

"I'm not Stan," he answered with a smile.

"Sorry; what's the plan for the night?" she asked Rory instead.

"Well, I thought we'd have a _Sorry!_ tournament and then watch _Jumanji_."

"There's nothing like computerized monkeys to give a kid nightmares."

"A kid? Or you?" Rory asked suspiciously.

"Could be both."

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

"So what did SpongeBob do then?" Rory asked Jeremy enthusiastically as she drove them to Tristan's apartment the next day. She listened to the answer with as much excitement as one could when listening to the adventures of a household cleaning item.

"No way," she replied to the answer.

"Uh huh," Jeremy insisted.

"Well that sounds crazy. Look, we're here!" she said as she parked next to Tristan's car and helped Jeremy out of the back seat. They walked up to the second floor and Rory knocked at the door. However, Tristan didn't answer and she couldn't hear anyone; so she used her own key to let them into the apartment.

"Tristan?" Rory called from the foyer. She could hear moaning from the bedroom and Isolde came running into the living room. Jeremy moved to pet her and Rory peeked in the kitchen to check the cat's provisions.

"Hey Jeremy, do you want to feed Isolde for me?"

"Yeah," he answered excitedly. Rory showed him where the cat food was and then walked back to the bedroom. She found Tristan there, semi-conscience, under the covers.

"It's the invalid," she said as she sat down next to him on the bed.

"Hey," he moaned hoarsely.

"You don't sound so good. Does your throat hurt?" she asked with concern.

"Yeah, it's really scratchy; and I'm all stuffed up," he answered before coughing into the crook of his arm and pulling a tissue from the box on his night stand. She put her hand to his forehead.

"You're really hot. Have you taken any medicine?"

"We both know I'm hot—," he tried to leer before coughing again. "But no to the medicine."

"So you're mentally fine," she grimly assessed. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not since lunch yesterday. I got home last night and passed out."

"Boys," she sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, stay here, I'm going to go get some things and then I'm going to take care of you."

"Aren't you already taking care of Jeremy? You didn't leave him with Paris, did you?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"He's here, he's feeding Isolde."

"You are a _terrible_ baby-sitter," he said, poking Rory in her side.

"What, why?" she asked, incredulous at the accusation.

"You brought your little brother to a sick person's house."

"He's not even near you!"

"Still; my germs are probably everywhere. It's on _you_ if he gets what I have. And I'll tell Lorelai on you."

"Don't be so dramatic, he'll be fine. Now just sit tight. I'll be back in no time," she said as she stood up.

Rory and Jeremy made a short trip down the block to the nearest drug store. She grabbed a basket and started filling it up with supplies. She walked past aisle five and saw pregnancy tests and thought about Lane. She never called back the night before. Rory would have to call her before the weekend was over if Lane didn't get back to her. When she had everything she thought she'd need they went to the checkout counter and paid for the purchases. In ten minutes they were back in Tristan's apartment. She set up _The Chronicles of Narnia_ on the television and got Jeremy situated on the couch before returning to the bedroom.

"Alright, I have DayQuil and NyQuil; here's a bag of cough drops, I'll just leave them on the nightstand for you," Rory said as she took the items out of the paper bag. "Here's another box of tissues, you're probably going to run out soon. And I also got some Vicks, lift up your shirt," she instructed. Tristan smirked at her.

"You know Mary; you didn't have to buy Vicks if you wanted me to take my shirt off. All's you had to do was ask," he said as he sat up and complied.

"What can I say? Hearing you all congested is making me hot and bothered."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

"No, but it _is_ bringing out my maternal side," she answered as she smeared the Vick on his chest.

"I see, and I like it," he said as he pulled her by the front of her shirt and kissed her after she was through with the decongestant. He stopped abruptly though and quickly pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She got her answer when he hastily reached for a tissue and sneezed into it. "Bless you."

"Sorry. It wasn't going to work out anyway; I couldn't breathe through my nose."

"I've never wanted you more," Rory said in a mock-serious tone as he blew his nose.

"Well how could you resist me? I'm basically bringing sexy back today," he said with a laugh that turned into a cough.

"I'm going to go make you soup; take some medicine and have a cough drop," she said as she stood up.

"_You're_ making me soup?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes. It's from a can, how could I mess that up?"

"I guess we'll find out," he kidded. Rory just stuck her tongue out at him and continued down the hall.

When the chicken noodle soup was heated Rory ladled some into a bowl and poured a glass of orange juice. She placed the bowl and the glass on a tray and carried it back to the bedroom.

"Here you go," she said, setting it down over Tristan.

"Thanks. You take such good care of me."

"Just call me your personal nurse." Tristan had a spoon full of soup raised, but stopped just before it reached his mouth.

"I could definitely do that," he said seriously.

"Alright, you eat; I'm going to go spray down the whole place with Lysol, starting with your piano. You should probably have your students wash their hands before their lessons, at least until winter is over," Rory suggested.

"Will do," Tristan said with a salute.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sunday morning found Rory sitting on the love seat in her living room while Jeremy still slept on the couch. She had worn him out making snowmen in the park the previous afternoon, which later turned into a snow ball fight. He had so much fun that he insisted on bringing a snowball back with them. Rory had put it on a plate and stuck it in the freezer for him when they returned home and stuck Jeremy in the bath to thaw. He stayed in there playing battleship until he turned into a raisin and Rory made him get out. He fell asleep while they were watching _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_.

Rory took a sip of her coffee while she watched "This Week" with Christiane Amanpour on television. Paris walked in as the roundtable portion of the program began. She went to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee and went to sit next to Rory in the living room.

"I can't believe America is so messed up right now that Christiane Amanpour wants to be here to talk about it," Paris commented bluntly.

"Yeah," Rory agreed. "Maybe I won't have to travel all around the world to get the good stories."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how I always wanted to see the world and write about it. It looks like the story is here now."

"You still want to travel," Paris countered wisely.

"Yeah, you're right. I still want to."

"Well, I hate to say it; that's not true, I don't mind saying it. You know you're going to have to work somewhere else for that to happen."

"I suppose."

"You _suppose_? That's the most consent I've ever gotten out of you about your job. What happened?" Paris asked in amazement.

"I don't know, I guess I'm just finally seeing that I can't stay there, working for Logan, forever," Rory answered thoughtfully. "Not that I ever wanted to stay there _forever_."

"So do you have a plan?" Paris asked eagerly.

"What do you mean?"

"A plan of action; how are you going to find another job?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I haven't really thought it out very much."

"You could send your resume out to a bunch of papers like you did after graduation. Put the feelers out again, maybe someone will remember your name from when you contacted them a few years ago."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Rory said, perking up a bit. "Oh and hey, I could write some freelance stuff to sell to other papers again, so they'll be familiar with my work when they see my resume."

"Yes! Do that, seriously. You can have the job you've always wanted, Rory, you just have to put yourself out there," Paris said enthusiastically.

"Right, embrace uncertainty," Rory added quietly. Her memory played back a scene in a coffee shop last April in which she had given Tristan similar advice about putting himself out there. She wondered, now, how she had managed to give someone that sort of advice when she hadn't tried it herself.

Rory stood up determinedly and walked back to her bedroom. When she returned to the living room she had her laptop in hand and a few jump drives. She set to work for the next several hours editing her resume and reading her old articles, putting together a new portfolio with a variety of her work, showcasing her ability to write about many topics. She only paused briefly when Jeremy woke up to make him breakfast and set him on the floor with some of the toys he had brought. Before she knew what time it was, there was a knock at the door. She set her laptop down and got up to answer it. Luke and Lorelai were standing on the other side.

"Come on in," Rory said in greeting, moving to allow them entrance.

"Hey Jeremy, did you miss us?" Lorelai asked. The boy shook his head no as Luke sat down on the couch. "Well that's a fine-how-do-you-do. I didn't think you'd brain wash him. At least, not in one weekend."

"We just had all kinds of fun," Rory explained.

"Well I guess that's good."

"How were the Bahamas?"

"A lot warmer than it is here," Luke answered.

"Yeah, the beach was great. I just sat out there, reading from my Kindle all day," Lorelai said, thinking fondly of the memory.

"I still don't know how you can read from a screen," Rory said with a scrunched up face.

"It's not bad. You should try it; it could save you tons of luggage space when you travel."

"Tristan told me something like that before. But I like to read the old fashioned way."

"I know you do. How is he anyway?"

"He's sick this weekend. But I took care of him; I'm going to go check on him again after you guys leave."

"Oh, well we wouldn't want to keep you from Lover Boy," Lorelai stated.

"Don't worry, you're not. He isn't going anywhere, he can wait."

"In that case," Lorelai said, pulling out her camera, "you can see some pictures from our weekend."

"Oooh, excellent," Rory said, settling down next to her mother to see the pictures.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

An hour and a half later, Rory was letting herself into Tristan's apartment again. This time though, he was lying on the couch watching television.

"You made it to the living room, that's a good sign," she told him with a smile.

"So we aren't knocking any more?" he deadpanned. "I could have been naked in here."

"I'm sorry; I wasn't sure if you'd be up. And I've seen you naked," she protested with a giggle.

"Yeah you have," he smirked as he sat up so she could sit down next to him.

"Are you feeling any better? You still sound congested."

"Yeah, my soar throat is mostly gone, but I'm still stuffed up."

"Will you be able to make it to work tomorrow; or will you have to call in sick?"

"I'll make it. I just have to pass out their test anyway."

"A test on a Monday? You're mean."

"No I'm not; they've had all weekend to study. I'm generous."

"If you say so. I bought some herbal tea yesterday; do you want me to make you some?"

"Sure, thanks." Rory got up and went into the kitchen. A minute later the phone rang.

"Could you get that for me?" Tristan asked from the living room.

"Like answer it?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, someone's been calling and hanging up when I answer. Maybe you'll catch them off guard."

"Alright. Hello?" she answered. There was a pause of silence on the other end.

"Hello?" Rory repeated.

"I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong number," the woman on the other end said.

"Oh, well this isn't my phone; you might have the right number. Who are you looking for?"

"Oh, uh, well. . . Tristan DuGrey," she answered hesitantly.

"Oh, see, you do have the right number, just a minute," Rory said as she walked back to the living room.

"You don't have—," the woman started, but Rory had already passed the phone to Tristan.

"Hello?" he answered. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Rory watched Tristan, wondering who the woman was, when a clouded look came over his eyes.

"How did you get this number, Abigail?" he asked the caller. Hearing his serious tone, Rory moved back to the kitchen to give him some privacy. She put a kettle on for the tea and picked up her own phone, pressing Lane's designated speed dial number. After a few rings, Lane picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lane, you never called me back Friday night. How did everything turn out?" Rory asked.

"Sorry; I didn't get to find out Friday. When I got back from the drugstore, Dave was home from work, so I had to hide the test. I only just used it this morning while he was still asleep."

"And?"

"False alarm," Lane answered.

"Okay, that's good right? You don't sound super relieved about it."

"I know. I saw Dave carrying a sack of potatoes yesterday afternoon."

"I'm not following."

"He was being really careful and I thought about what it would look like if he was holding a baby. For a second I thought it would be nice, you know, to have one."

"So you're disappointed now?"

"Not disappointed, just not as freaked out about the idea. But now isn't the greatest of times to start a family," Lane explained. "I was hoping that you'd come for a visit and I'd tell you my exciting news."

"What news?"

"I started taking classes at New York University this month."

"You did? Lane, that's so great!" Rory said enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I decided that I want to get my degree now that the band isn't touring. I thought it would be good to have a fall back career."

"So what are you majoring in?"

"I'm undeclared this semester. But I'm thinking about getting a minor in music; or at least take some theory classes. I thought it might not be terrible for one person in the band to be able to read music."

"That is a good idea; and hey, if you ever need help, I have connections."

"Thanks for offering up Tristan's services," Lane grinned into the phone.

"Not a problem. Besides, I have other uses for him; you might as well pick his brain."

"Wow, you've officially taken this conversation to left field."

"Sorry."

"No, I don't mind. So, when _are_ you two going to come to New York? New Year's Eve was fun with you guys; it's time for you to repay the visit."

"New Year's _was_ fun, maybe a little too much fun for a certain couple," Rory teased. "When will it work for you?"

"Well, I see a three day weekend in February. We could get together to discuss the finer moments in our country's presidential history," Lane suggested.

"That might work, let me check with Tristan and see if it works for him."

"Good, let me know."

"I will. Oh, my water's boiling; I'm going to let you go."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later, bye."

"Bye, Lane," Rory said and hung up the phone. She removed the kettle from the stove and put in a couple of tea bags. She let it brew for about ten minutes before pouring two mugs of the hot liquid. She stirred in some honey and walked back into the living room. Tristan was still on the phone.

"Alright Matt, let me know when she calls you. I'll see you later, bye," he said and then sat the phone on the lamp table next to him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Since when do you call Matt Abigail?" Rory asked as she handed him a mug.

"Thanks. What?"

"You called the person you were talking to Abigail earlier, now you said bye to Matt," Rory embellished.

"Oh yeah, no, I called him after the other call," he explained, breathing in the steam from his tea.

"So, who _was_ she?" Rory asked. Tristan paused before answering.

"My mother," he revealed slowly.

"What?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah. I figured out who the mystery caller has been."

"What did she want?"

"To see how I've been doing," he said somewhat bitterly.

"After all this time?"

"Yeah. She said she's been wanting to for a long time, but just got the courage a couple of weeks ago."

"Are you still mad at her? For leaving?"

"I was never mad over her leaving Dad. That part was understandable. But as far as her leaving me and Matt. . . . I just pushed the hurt away through various methods, first by doing stupid things and then by focusing on school and the piano."

"So you never really dealt with it," Rory concluded.

"I put off dealing with it because I used to hope that she'd come back and take me with her. Stupid, huh?"

"No, not stupid."

"After a while I just resigned to the fact that she wasn't coming back. What do _you_ do?" he asked, turning to Rory.

"What do you mean?"

"You grew up without your dad around. What happened when he would show up?"

"Well, he was like a tornado. You never knew when he'd blow in to town and when he left, Mom and I would have to deal with the damage. But no matter what he did, I'd always _eventually_ forgive him. Because, in the end, he'll always be my dad. Nothing will change that. And I know that he didn't hurt us intentionally. Your mom probably didn't mean to hurt you, either."

"Maybe," Tristan said, contemplating her answer. "I grew up and forgave my dad. I guess it's only fair that I give her a chance."

"That's a very grown up attitude of you," Rory complimented.

"A scary thought, I know. She would like to see me sometime; when I'm ready."

"Where is she now?"

"New York."

"What a coincidence."

"What is?"

"I just talked to Lane, and she wants to know if we would want to visit her and Dave next month. In New York. President's Day weekend, if it works for us," Rory explained.

"Are you suggesting a 'two birds with one stone' scenario? Because that sounds kind of soon to face the mother who abandoned me."

"You don't have to see your mom if you're not ready. I don't want to push you into anything. But while we're there, if you _are_ up to it, the option is there. You don't have to commit to anything though."

"I'll think about it."

"Good. Oh, and in other news, Lane's not pregnant," she added.

"I didn't know she might be. Is it a happy not pregnant or a sad not pregnant?"

"I don't think she's decided yet."

"Okay, well, let me know when she does and I'll respond appropriately."

"I will." He pulled her closer to him.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she said pointedly.

"What am I doing?"

"You're trying to get me sick so you'll get to be _my_ nurse."

"I would never!" he objected. "But you have to admit, I'd look good in the uniform."

"What makes you think I'd let you wear anything at all?" she asked. Tristan looked surprised by her bold comment.

"Clearly, I underestimated you, I'll never make the same mistake again," he said with a smile and then turned serious. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"For taking are of me; and for the advice."

"It's no trouble, it's my job."

"I'm your job?" Tristan asked with a cocked brow. "Do I pay well?"

"Oh you do," she smiled suggestively. "Especially in a certain room in your apartment."

"Hmm; I'm trying to decide whether that makes me feel whorish or not," he laughed and started to cough. Rory pushed his tea closer to his mouth so he'd take a drink. "Your mind sure is in the gutter today. At least I'm keeping you happy in one aspect of this relationship; good to know."

"You keep me happy in other aspects. You're quite the package deal."

"Glad to hear it. You're not so bad yourself, I don't care what other people say," he teased.

"I don't know what you mean, people love me," she answered.

"Not as much as I do," he said as he set both of their mugs down and wrapped his arm around her.

.


	18. Locomotive

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 18**: Locomotive

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

**A/N**: I've never been to New York so I looked up some stuff, which is tricky; there are so many sections of New York City, so hopefully this turned out okay.

**Locomotive**

"Alright, my article for tomorrow's issue is in, do you need anything else from me before I go?" Rory asked her editor, leaning on the door frame of his office.

"Nope, everything looks good," Logan answered. "Big weekend plans?"

"Kind of, we're going to New York," Rory answered.

"Well have fun; I know we always had fun there."

"Sure, it was swell. So I'm good to go then?" she asked with raised brows.

"You're good to go," he confirmed.

"Great, see you Tuesday," Rory said before leaving the building. She walked quickly to her car and hopped in, wasting no time to drive out of the parking garage to Tristan's apartment. When she was at his door she could hear piano music; she knocked quickly and let herself in. Tristan stuck his head out from around the corner and smiled.

"Sorry Michael, it's not your sister; she's here for me," he told the boy sitting at his piano. "That means you have time to play this Tarantella. Remember it's in six eight; just like a tarantella has six legs." The boy made a slow attempt at the song. "Pretty good, the notes and rhythms were all correct, but I want to hear it a little faster next week."

"Okay."

"And what scales will you be practicing for next time?"

"E major and C-sharp melodic minor," the boy answered sourly.

"Good, and as Nixon used to say: buck up. Those scales are only going to make you stronger. Like eating your Wheaties for breakfast," Tristan said encouragingly as there was another knock at the door. This time, a blonde teenaged girl entered the apartment. Tristan walked into the living room with the boy next to him.

"He's all finished," Tristan told the girl.

"Good; here's your check, Mr. DuGrey," the girl said, smiling up at Tristan. She shot Rory a dirty look, which amused Rory.

"Thanks; I'll see you next Friday, Michael," he said as the siblings walked out the door.

"Are you ready to go, Mr. DuGrey?" Rory asked with a grin.

"Yup, let me go get my bag from my room," he answered, walking down the hall. Rory followed as far as the piano, stopping to pick up the stickers that were sitting on the instrument.

"Can I have a sticker?" she called down the hall.

"Those have to be earned," he said strictly as he returned.

"Well in that case, I think I've earned a whole sheet," Rory challenged. Tristan thought a moment.

"You're right; enjoy," he answered.

"Thank you," she said proudly, pocketing the stickers.

"Those flowers on the table are for you; happy Valentine's Day," he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

"You already sent me roses at work, you didn't need to get me more," Rory protested, looking over at the vase of sunflowers sitting on the table.

"I didn't send flowers to your office today," he said with a frown. "I love you and all, but I thought one bouquet would suffice."

"That's weird, who were the roses from if they weren't from you?" Rory asked with a puzzled expression. "There wasn't a card."

"I have one idea who could have sent them, but I'd rather not spoil the weekend; so I'll let it go for now," Tristan said, releasing her. "How about we get this show on the road?"

"You mean the _rail_road," she said with a grin, leaving the mystery of the roses forgotten.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Rory watched as southwestern Connecticut rapidly went by outside the window. She continued to gaze out the window when she spoke.

"Are you finished yet?"

"No."

"How much longer do you need?" she whined.

"Give me twenty more minutes and then I'll take a break, even if I'm not finished."

"Fine," Rory retorted in a pouty voice.

"Don't you have a book you could read? Or five?"

"Six, actually; but I don't feel like reading." Tristan looked up from the paper he was grading and turned to Rory.

"That's a first. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine; I'm just excited to see Lane."

"I know you are; we'll be there before you know it. Now give me fifteen minutes."

"I thought you said twenty."

"Well, under the circumstances, what with you not wanting to read, I think you need my attention more than these papers."

"Aw, thanks," Rory said as she looked out the window again.

Before fifteen minutes was up though, Tristan spoke again. "I think I'll go see my mom while we're in New York."

"Okay." A minute later, he changed his mind.

"On second thought, maybe it's too soon."

"It could be."

"I _should_ though, I mean, I'll be in the area; just to see how she's doing."

"That sounds okay too."

"I'm not sure," he said, shaking his head.

"I could go with you, if you want. You know, for moral support."

"That's alright; if I go, I should go on my own, at least the first time."

"I'll be here if you change your mind."

"Thanks," he said, taking her hand in his.

IIIIIIIIIIIII

Lane was sitting on a stool at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, reading a Psychology book when there was a knock at the door. She closed the book and got up to answer.

"Lane!" Rory exclaimed and gave her friend a hug.

"Rory!" Lane squealed. "And I see you brought Martin van Buren with you. I know it _is_ President's Day weekend and all, but you could have brought Tristan."

"Good one," he said. "I almost like that one better than when you called me Grizzly Adams back at New Year's."

"Thanks, I had to do a little research for this one. I thought it would be more festive than asking if there was another writer's strike going on," she explained.

"I appreciate the effort on your part," Tristan said as Lane let them in.

"Welcome to our New York City pied-a-terre," she said cheerfully, gesturing around her.

"Very nice," Rory said approvingly. "And you have an excellent view."

"I know, it's one of my favorite things, I like to look at all the lights at night," Lane said. "Let me give you the grand tour."

They proceeded to follow Lane around the apartment. She excitedly showed off the roomy kitchen with the black appliances and the stone bar. They admired the vaulted ceilings and the fireplace in the living room; Rory appreciated the Roman bath and two sinks in the bathroom. The walk in closet in the bedroom didn't go unnoticed, either. When they returned to the living room, Dave was walking through the door.

"Hey guys, how was your train ride here?" he asked Rory and Tristan. He gave Lane a kiss and handed her flowers.

"Pretty good, I got a moderate amount of work done," Tristan answered, giving Rory a look.

"What?" she said innocently.

"Nothing, you're just so delightful to travel with," he replied wryly.

"You're delightful to travel with, too," she said sweetly.

"Are you hungry?" Dave asked.

"I'm starving," Rory answered. "What do you usually do on Friday nights?"

"Oh, well, we usually order pizza or Chinese and watch _20/20_," Dave said sheepishly.

"Married life sounds awesome," Rory said seriously.

"Yeah, it is," Lane said dreamily. Tristan looked at them like they were both crazy.

"What?" Rory asked a second time.

"You're really easy."

"My mother would be so proud to hear."

"The weird part is that she really would be," Lane commented.

"_Anyway_, how about Chinese?" Rory suggested.

"That sounds good to me," Lane said, looking at the two men, who both nodded in agreement. Lane handed Rory a notepad to write down the food they wanted. When the long list was finished, Rory handed it to Tristan and Dave, who went to retrieve the food, figuring take out would be faster than waiting for delivery on a Friday night.

"So, how are things with _you_?" Lane asked Rory when they were alone.

"Things are just fine. Tristan is amazing; and I've been happy with the articles I've been assigned lately."

"So Huntzburger, Sr. has been around, I take it?" Lane asked knowingly, aware of how the system had been working over the past few years.

"Actually, he hasn't," Rory said with a frown. "Logan's just been giving me good assignments of his own volition."

"And why do you think this change has come about?" Lane asked warily.

"I'd like to think that it's because I'm a good writer and he knows it. But I have a sneaking suspicion that he's trying to win me over."

"Maybe he's still hoping that you'll get upset with Tristan and go running to him."

"Like that would ever happen."

"You won't get upset with Tristan, or you won't go running to Logan?"

"I definitely won't go running to Logan. If I get upset with Tristan, then I'll let him make it up to me and then we can . . . make up," Rory explained pointedly.

"That sounds like a good plan."

"I thought so."

"Oh, hey, do you want to look at some wedding pictures while we're waiting?" Lane asked, standing up suddenly.

"You have wedding pictures and you're just now bringing it up?" Rory asked incredulously.

"Sorry, let me go get them!" she said as she ran out of the room, returning a minute later with an album and a manila envelope. She let Rory look through the album while she poured more pictures from the envelope.

"Kirk did a good job with these," Rory observed.

"I know; he's really improving. Here, one of these are for you and one is for your mom," Lane said, handing Rory two pictures of the wedding party. "And here's one of you and Tristan dancing, I want you to have it too."

"Oh thanks! These are great, I love them," Rory said as the apartment door opened and the guys walked in with bags of food in their hands.

Lane got plates and glasses down from the cabinet and passed them around the table while Rory opened the white boxes of food. Dave grabbed some big spoons and they all dug in. There was enough food to feed an army, so they all ate more than enough. Dave snatched a napkin from the center of the table and the pen that was sitting next to the phone. He quickly jotted something on the napkin and handed it to Lane. She read what was written and gave a thumb up.

"Will this be the bridge or a verse?" she asked.

"I haven't decided, I just had to write it down before I forgot," Dave explained. "Hey Tristan, do you remember that melody I was singing when we were in the elevator? How did it go again?"

"Oh, I'm not sure I remember," Tristan answered hastily. Rory looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"You memorize music for a living," she said skeptically.

"I do other stuff, too," he argued.

"You know what I mean," she said before turning to Lane and Dave. "He's shy about singing."

"I'm not shy! I just don't like to parade around my weaknesses," he reasoned.

"Do you think you could play it over on the piano?" Lane asked hopefully.

"That I can do," he answered and went over to the upright piano that was along one of the walls in the living room. After some quiet humming and some experimenting he slowly played the melody.

"Yeah, that's it!" Dave said. He sang the lyrics he had written on the napkin the next time Tristan played it.

"Not bad," Rory said. "When it's a big hit I can tell everyone that I was here when it was written."

"Oh! I should show you what we wrote last week when we were on the subway," Lane exclaimed before running over to a shelf and pulling down a binder full of paper.

"Wow, you guys have written a lot," Rory observed.

"Yeah, but trust me, they're not all winners."

"And some are just song parodies," Dave added.

Rory and Lane leafed through the binder, reading song lyrics while Tristan and Dave worked out some more melodies. They had to grab a notebook of staff paper to write down phrases and chord progressions.

"Are you sure you want this song in a major key? The lyrics don't sound very happy," Tristan asked Dave about a particular song they had pulled out of the binder.

"I don't want it to be a complete downer, though."

"How about this," Tristan said, playing a phrase. "It's Dorian mode. It worked for the Beatles."

"I like it," Dave approved. "Play it again, I'll write it down this time." Rory and Lane looked on from their spot at the table.

"Can we keep him?" Lane asked Rory quietly.

"Nope, he's going back with me on Monday," she answered with a smile. They watched the boys with amused expressions a bit longer before Rory tried to stifle a big yawn.

"You guys must be tired," Lane said as she cleared the table, putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. "Do you want me to pull the sofa bed out for you?"

"I won't stop you," Rory said, retrieving her toothbrush and pajamas from her bag.

"I'm sorry we don't have a spare bedroom for you guys to stay in, rent isn't cheap in Manhattan," Lane said.

"That's okay; we'll be fine in the living room. Is the sofa bed comfy?"

"Definitely. We didn't skimp on it since we don't have a spare room."

"That sounds like a fair trade off."

"Our reasoning exactly," Lane said in agreement.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Rory woke up to the sound of the television the next morning. It took her a moment to remember where she was, there was an awful lot of sun light shining in through the windows. She rolled over and opened her eyes half way. Tristan was sitting up on the sofa bed, concentrating on the television. However, he was not in his pajamas; instead, he was wearing a crimson colored Indiana University T-shirt and jeans. She was close enough to him to feel how cold he was.

"Why are you freezing? Have you been outside?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I snuck out a few hours ago, I just got back," he answered, looking down at her.

"A few hours ago? What were you doing?"

"I had to practice. Every day means another three to four hours, even when I'm out of town."

"Why didn't you just use the one that's here?" she inquired, nodding to the piano he had played the night before.

"And wake everyone up at the crack of dawn? You must not want to be invited back."

"Oh, I'd still get invited; they'd just make me leave you at home."

"I guess that's one possibility. Anyway, another reason I can't practice here is because I consider it to be a solitary activity. Do you like it when someone reads over your shoulder while you write a rough draft of an article?"

"Alight, touché. So where did you go? Did you break into a music store? Actually, that's how Lane started to play the drums. I mean, she didn't break in, but she practiced in a music store."

"No, I didn't break into a store. I went over to the music department at NYU, I know a guy; I borrowed his fob to get into their practice rooms."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to drag you along and mess up your schedule. I'm not used to thinking about access to a piano when I travel."

"It's alright, you didn't drag me; I go with you willingly. And don't worry about pianos, I always find a way. Even if it means paying someone at Nordstrom's to use theirs before they open." Rory laughed at the idea.

"Well as long as you have things under control," she said, sitting up next to him. "Is there anything good on this morning?"

"I seem to have stumbled upon _That's So Raven_," he answered as Dave walked into the living room in his pajamas.

"Is this the episode where Raven goes to her cousin's on the farm? Because it's been on like a hundred times," Dave complained when he saw what they were watching.

Rory and Tristan looked up at him, each wore a questioning expression. "You know what, let me try this again." He turned around and reentered the room. "Morning guys, what are you watching? I'm going to go start making breakfast. Any requests?"

"Pancakes," they both answered.

"Pancakes it is," he said, moving into the kitchen. Lane walked in then, sporting some major bed head.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Rory greeted her.

"Morning," Lane returned in a grumble.

"What kind of fun day in the big city do you have planned for us?" Rory asked. Lane perked up slightly as she started a pot of coffee in the kitchen.

"You came at a good time; we'll get to go ice skating down at Rockefeller Center. We'll do some touristy things, like the Empire State building. And we have tickets to see _Avenue Q_ on Broadway tonight. We can do some shopping, too, if you want."

"That all sounds fun," Tristan commented.

"There are a couple of editors here in New York that I wrote some freelance articles for," Rory said. "If you guys don't mind, I think I'll see if they could have lunch with me today. I mean, they're probably not hiring right now, my hopes aren't high."

"It would be a good networking opportunity," Tristan said encouragingly.

"Yeah, and they might be hiring later," Lane added. "Then you'll already have a foot in the door. You'll be putting a face with a name."

"That's a good point. I'm going to go make a couple of calls," she said, grabbing her phone and walking down the short hallway. When she returned, Tristan had a determined look on his face.

"Alright, I'll go," he told her.

"You'll go where?"

"To see my mom," he answered. "If you're going out for lunch, I can go see how she is."

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Order up," Dave said from the kitchen, setting down a plate of pancakes on the bar.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Around 1:00 that afternoon, Tristan was sitting on the couch across from Dave; Lane was sitting at the end of the coffee table. They each had cards in their hands and there were colored chips on the table between them.

"Hey man," Tristan said to Dave, "you know you get a goofy grin on your face every time you have a good hand?"

"Oh, shoot," Dave said, sobering.

"Well, I'm out," Lane said, laying her cards on the table and standing up.

"Me too," Tristan said, putting his cards down as well.

"Yes! A Royal Flush," Dave said excitedly, laying down his cards and moving the stack of chips towards him. Tristan pulled out his wallet and took out a five dollar bill. He handed it to Dave when there was a knock at the door and Lane went to answer.

"Hey, how did it go?" she asked Rory.

"Pretty well."

"So they begged you to work for them?"

"No, not exactly. They aren't hiring, but they like what I've written, so that's a plus," she said, taking off her coat and sitting down on the couch next to Tristan. "Did you go? Or did you change your mind?"

"I went."

"How was it?"

"It was fine. We talked. She's doing well here in New York."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. She made me a grilled cheese sandwich, like she used to when I was like, eight years old."

"Was it good?"

"Yeah, hers were always the best. Anyway, it's a start, right?"

"Right. So, what have you guys been doing here?" she asked, looking at the coffee table.

"Lane and I have been losing to Dave at poker," he answered. "In spite of his terrible poker face."

"Are you ready to go out on the town?" Lane asked.

"Yes," Rory answered. "I want to go ice skating first!"

The four bundled up in their coats and scarves and left the apartment. They took the subway to Rockefeller Center and skated around until their toes were numb and their noses were red. They stopped at a café for coffee to warm up before taking a long elevator ride up to the sky deck of the Empire State Building.

"Do you think Jay-Z wrote _Empire State of Mind_ from up here?" Dave asked.

"Probably," Tristan answered seriously.

"Awesome."

"Okay, I think I'm starting to get vertigo," Lane said, turning away from the city below and looking at her watch. "We should probably head to the restaurant about now if we want to make our reservation."

They enjoyed a delicious Italian meal at Trattoria Trecolori before laughing at puppets acting inappropriately on Broadway to cap off their night. It was late when they returned to Lane and Dave's apartment.

"You sure know how to show people a good time," Rory told Lane as she plopped down on the couch.

"For you, I pull out all the stops," Lane said tiredly. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready for bed."

"Me too," Rory said. Tristan didn't say anything, but nodded in agreement.

"All right, we'll see you in the morning," Lane said as she and Dave retired to their bedroom.

"Good night."

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

"So when we were on the road, we stopped at a little mom and pop Mexican place to eat. Now, Zach had a cold, so he was stuffed up and he couldn't pronounce all his consonants correctly. So he goes up to the counter and asks for two fajitas, but he pronounced the J, so it sounded like he was asking for two vaginas. The lady just looked at him and asked if he was stupid," Lane said. The other three laughed at the story.

They were sitting in a booth at a Manhattan Mexican Restaurant, eating lunch early Sunday afternoon. They had already been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art that morning and would be shopping on Fifth Avenue after lunch.

"Zach and Brian never did catch on to you sneaking around when Dave was in the band, did they?" Rory asked. Lane and Dave both thought about it for a moment.

"No, they never did, did they?" Lane concluded and Dave shook his head. Rory's cell phone started to ring from her purse and she rolled her eyes before pulling it out and checking the caller ID. She sighed and sent the call to voicemail before shoving the phone back into her purse.

"The office again?" Lane asked.

"Yeah, and not the funny one with Dwight and Jim. That's the fourth time today," Rory sighed. Tristan didn't say anything from his spot next to her. They were all aware that 'the office' really meant Logan.

"Why would he be calling on a Sunday?" Lane asked with her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know. But I _do_ know that I'm on vacation over a three day weekend, so I shouldn't have to talk to him," Rory answered. She heard the phone ring again and growled in frustration at the sound.

"Maybe if you answer he'll stop calling," Dave innocently suggested. She sighed and opened the phone.

"What is it?" she asked without greeting.

Lane, trying not to eavesdrop, made a half hearted attempt at conversation. "So, did you guys like _Avenue Q_ last night?" she asked, looking from Dave to Tristan.

"Can't you get someone else to do it?" Rory demanded. "You know I'm out of town, Logan!"

"Oh, it was completely hilarious," Dave said; eager to participate in the conversation. He was starting to feel guilty about suggesting that Rory answer her phone. Tristan only nodded in the response to her question, though. He was listening to Rory's exchange.

"I won't be back in Connecticut until tomorrow _evening_; you're going to have to find someone else!" Rory exclaimed.

"I thought it was clever of them to say Glen Beck at the end in _For Now_, since George Bush isn't president any more. I was wondering if they would change that part," Lane continued to chatter.

"Yeah, and it was funny when the televisions came down so they could count nightstands earlier in the show. It was like _Sesame Street_ until they ended with one night stand," Dave rambled.

"Logan, _no_!" Rory shouted into the phone. "I know you're the boss, you don't have to remind me." She listened for another minute in disgust before she angrily slammed the phone shut and threw it back into her purse. Lane and Dave awkwardly watched her fume from across the table.

"What did he want?" Tristan asked as he crossed his arms.

"There's a press conference tomorrow morning in Hartford and he's making me cover it. I don't know why he's doing this; he _knows_ I'm out of town!"

"Does he know I'm with you?" he asked. Rory shrugged her shoulders.

"I told him we were coming to New York, but I didn't tell him who 'we' were. Anything he thinks he knows is an assumption."

"So he's having you go back, just in case," Tristan concluded tensely without looking at Rory.

"I don't know," she sighed. "He's being a jerk."

"I guess we should go then," he stated tonelessly.

"I'm so sorry," Rory said to everyone at the table. "I was really looking forward to shopping this afternoon."

They sat uncomfortably for a few minutes, waiting for the check before heading back to Lane and Dave's apartment so Rory and Tristan could get their belongings.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

The Amtrak train sped along the track, heading north and leaving New York behind them. Rory sat in her aisle seat and looked out the window on the other side of the train. Tristan hadn't said much after they had left the restaurant. Rory shot him timid glances now and then, but he wouldn't look at her. His cool blue eyes were focused on the scenery outside his window.

"I really am sorry," she said in a small voice. "I swear, I'll make it up to you." She was looking down, studying her hands. She was surprised when Tristan took her left hand in his. She took another quick look up at him, but he was still gazing out the window.


	19. Don't Damn Me

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 19**: Don't Damn Me

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Don't Damn Me**

Rory was looking across the dinning room table at her mother; her expression was equal parts amusement and skepticism. Lorelai had just finished rambling about the plotlines of various children's cartoons. Apparently today's television choices were not what they were when Rory was a child. Most of the other occupants of the table were ignoring her diatribe and now that it was finally over, Richard thought it would be a good idea to change the subject.

"Luke, how is your daughter doing? Has she chosen a college to attend this fall?"

"Yeah, she did. April is going to go to Yale. I'm so glad, too, she'll be so close," Luke answered proudly.

"Yale? Why, that's wonderful," Emily said happily. At his seat next to Rory, Tristan was biting his tongue.

"What is she going to study?" Richard inquired.

"She's going to double major in biology and chemistry and minor in math."

"Goodness," Richard exclaimed, "that's quite an ambitious load. What is she planning to do after she graduates?"

"Well, she's not completely sure yet. She might apply to med school or go into scientific research."

"What a noble line of work, the sciences," Emily said fervently. "And Yale's college of science is excellent, of course. Although, I'm sure not all of its colleges are appealing to everyone." Tristan started to open his mouth to say something, but changed his mind, shaking his head and taking a drink of his water instead. He successfully resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well, Yale isn't the only good school, Mom," Lorelai reasoned.

"Of course it isn't, Lorelai. I wasn't implying that it was."

"Okay, as long as we're all agreed." Emily turned her attention on her grandson then. He was sitting between Luke and Lorelai.

"Jeremy, don't you like asparagus?" The little boy shook his head and continued to push the green vegetables to the far side of his plate.

"Lorelai, you should make him eat his vegetables, he's a growing boy," Emily lectured. Luke gave Lorelai a pointed look, indicating that he agreed with his mother-in-law, for once.

"Well, kids don't like vegetables, it's normal," Lorelai defended.

"And apparently some forty-two year olds don't care for them either." Lorelai gasped in shock.

"Bite your tongue! I don't go around blabbing _your_ age to everyone!"

"Please, Lorelai, you're a grown woman, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, everyone at this table knows you're in your forties." Lorelai looked questioningly across the table to see Tristan and Rory nod in agreement. Lorelai made a face at them. "Besides, you spent ten minutes telling us all about the adventures of cartoon vegetables, the least you could do is eat the vegetables on your plate."

"Okay, but don't complain after I've named them all and given them back stories," she retorted.

"Rory, we've been seeing your name in the paper a lot lately," Richard said, turning to his granddaughter.

"Well yeah, she's a big celebrity," Lorelai said. "I thought you knew that by now."

"I meant that we've seen her bylines," Richard clarified.

"Yeah, I've been working really hard lately. I've been getting a lot of important stories," Rory answered.

"You see that? We always told you that you would get noticed at the paper. I'm sure all this responsibility is due to your hard work," Emily beamed. Tristan snorted at this; it was quiet enough to go unnoticed by anyone but Rory and Lorelai.

"Yeah, it's so nice that you're getting good assignments without any ulterior motives," Lorelai said somewhat derisively. Tristan nodded with a grimace from across the table.

"Are you suggesting that there's some other reason for it?" Emily asked, looking at her daughter expectantly.

"She's not suggesting anything," Rory cut in. She'd rather that they get through the evening without mentioning her editor. She really didn't feel like talking about him. Ever. "Did you hear that Tristan is going to be playing a concerto with the Hartford Symphony Orchestra next month?"

"I _had_ heard actually, that's quite an honor," Richard complimented.

"Yes, we'd love to get tickets for the concert," Emily added earnestly.

"I'm sure I could get you some," Tristan spoke up. "My grandfather bought more than was really necessary."

"It would be lovely to sit with Louisa and Janlen," Emily said excitedly. Rory was glad about her enthusiasm over Tristan's imminent performance.

"We could go see the concert too," Luke told Lorelai. "If you want. We've never seen Tristan play."

"Sure, that sounds super fun and exciting," Lorelai said sardonically. Tristan shot her a smirk.

"Don't worry; I'll try not to put you to sleep."

LLLLLLLLLLL

"I know Yale is basically paradise and all, but I can never figure out how it comes up in conversation with them," Tristan ranted as he drove them away from the Gilmore house. "Every time!"

"I know. And I hate to break it to you, but Yale really is paradise. I mean, have you seen their library? It's amazing."

"Oh sure, the campus appealed to your weakness. Every time I see your grandparents I want to tell them that Indiana University's college of music is ranked number one in the country. It's tied with Julliard and Eastman School of Music! So no offense, but they can take Yale and shove it."

"No offense taken," Rory said, half amused, from the passenger seat. Tristan sighed, calming down a little.

"Sorry, I don't mean to hate on your alma mater, I know you love it."

"It's okay; it's not their place to judge. So, where are we headed now, you're place or mine?"

"Is Mood Killer McGee home this evening?" Tristan asked.

"Paris is home, yes," Rory answered with a smile.

"Then you just answered your own question."

Fifteen minutes later Rory was unlocking the door to Tristan's apartment and letting them in. She took a seat on the couch as Tristan went to get something from the kitchen. He exited the kitchen and went over to his piano.

"Mary, come here a minute," he summoned. Rory got up to joint him at the piano. He handed her a bag of Meow Mix.

"Oh thanks, I was getting a little hungry," she told him. Tristan shook his head at her.

"I'm going to play a chord; I want you to shake that when I do."

"Okay, can I ask why we're doing this?"

"Because I want to see if I can classically condition Isolde to come when I play the Tristan chord from _Tristan und Isolde_."

"Can cats be classically conditioned? Or does it only work with dogs?"

"That's what I'm going to find out."

"Alright Pavlov, but why not play the Isolde chord? Since you want _Isolde_ to come here?"

"Wagner didn't write an Isolde chord."

"Well that seems a bit misogynistic of him, doesn't it?"

"I don't think he was a misogynist, but he was definitely an anti-Semitist."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Hitler was a big fan. But Wagner's _Bridal Chorus_— you know, 'Here Comes the Bride'— is a favorite for brides to walk down the aisle to all over."

"Huh."

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, play it!" Tristan followed her orders and played a few measures of music while Rory shook the bag of cat food. Isolde came running into the room and Rory fed her. Then they went into the kitchen and Tristan poured them some wine. They clinked glasses and sipped. Tristan leaned against the counter and glanced at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator.

"This Thursday is March twenty-fourth," he observed.

"What's March twenty-fourth?" Rory asked.

"You don't remember?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't; tell me about it."

"Well about a year ago, I was chopping down that tree and it suddenly started to rain. And right in the middle of a chop, I rusted solid; and I've been that way ever since," Tristan explained seriously. Rory looked at him quizzically. "Oh sorry, that's someone else's story."

"That's what I thought. Try again."

"Okay, about a year ago, I was driving home, minding my own business."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah; and the light up ahead turned yellow, so I decided to stop."

"That was conscientious of you."

"I know. But apparently the woman behind me wasn't so conscientious or wasn't paying attention—,"

"Or she was singing along to Queen's _Somebody to Love_—," Rory interjected.

"Huh, I wonder if she found somebody," Tristan pondered. "Anyway, I stopped at the light and was instantly rear ended."

"No! Were you okay?" Rory said with enthusiastic concern.

"I was just fine, thanks for asking. So, I called for help and got out of my car. Low and behold, who ran into me, but the elusive Rory Gilmore?"

"Hey, that's me!"

"It _is_ you, what do you know about that? So I took advantage of the situation and guilted her into going out with me. And now here we are, one year later; drinking wine in my kitchen, recuperating from a Friday night dinner with the Gilmores."

"We _are_ here. Together."

"Yup," he agreed with a grin.

"By the way, she did."

"Who did what?"

"She found somebody to love."

"Glad to hear it," he said, clinking his glass against hers again.

"So what are you proposing we do about this?" Rory inquired.

"About the love thing or the anniversary thing? Because I can think of an activity for each, but they're very similar and they end the same way."

"The anniversary thing," she clarified. Tristan thought about it for a moment as he took another taste of his wine.

"How about you come over here and I'll make dinner."

"That's always a good plan, maybe I'll bring dessert."

"Oh, you'll bring dessert alright."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Tristan was in his office late Thursday afternoon, making two stacks of music books on his desk. One stack would be staying; the other would be going home with him. He pondered the last book before he placed it on top of the home stack and put them into his brief case. He logged off of his computer and left his office, turning off the light and locking the door behind him. He thought about the evening as he sat in his car and took a look at his reflection in his rearview mirror. He smiled when he got an idea. He drove home and sat out some meat to thaw before moving to the bathroom. He lathered up his face and picked up his razor; he carefully shaved his face clean and rinsed it off. He returned to the kitchen and started to boil water and chop vegetables.

An hour later he was tasting sauce from a large pot on the stove when the phone range. He glanced at the time displayed on the microwave and frowned before picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Rory said on the other end. She sounded like she was concentrating.

"Hey, where are you?"

"Work," she answered bitterly.

"Still? It's almost seven o'clock, why are you still there?"

"I'm stuck in Logan's office, doing the lay out."

"That isn't usually you're responsibility, is it?"

"No. I'm the only one here. Mitchem Huntzburger was here before quitting time and Logan took him out to dinner. He asked me to do the lay out at the last minute. It's taking me forever; I haven't done this since I was the editor of _The Yale Daily News_. And we used a different program back then."

"I didn't think he got along with his father."

"He doesn't. At least, not most of the time."

"Does he know you have plans tonight?" Tristan asked; he was starting to get angry.

"Yes! I said that I needed to go because I have somewhere to be. I argued with him about it as long as I could, but he was already halfway out the door when he told me I had to stay late."

"Did he know _why_ you needed to go?"

"No, he didn't know about our anniversary, I left that part out. Unless—," Rory stopped to think.

"Unless what?"

"Unless he heard me when I picked up the flowers you sent me today. I picked them up at Joyce's desk and told her it was our anniversary. I think Logan's door may have been open. He could have heard."

"Oh great, so it's _my_ fault."

"I didn't say that."

"Well either way he found out and made you stay. He's probably trying to keep you away from me and he knows you won't go home if there's a possibility of the paper not going out. He's taking advantage of you, Rory!"

"I know, but what can I do? No one else is here! And the paper _won't_ go out if I don't finish it." Tristan sighed and ran a hand through his hair impatiently.

"Sometimes I wonder if he's trying to make you choose between us," he muttered. "On days like today I'm not sure who you'd pick."

"What did you say?" Rory asked incredulously.

"Nothing."

"No, you said it; don't try to take it back!" Rory said angrily. "This isn't a matter of choosing one of you over the other; and I'd like to think that you know I'd choose you every time. This is a matter of choosing employment over unemployment!"

"I wish you could quit this crappy job."

"Do you think I don't wish that, too? Unfortunately, I wasn't in the audience the day Oprah was handing out journalism jobs," Rory exclaimed hotly.

"Well this is just great," Tristan said sarcastically. "Do you know how long you're going to be? Dinner is almost ready."

"No, I don't. I've already been working on it for two hours and I think I'm just barely halfway through."

"Terrific. I guess I'll see you when you're finished," he retorted sourly before hanging up the phone. He stood in the kitchen and scowled at the pots on the stove with crossed arms. He reached up and opened the cabinet above the stove and looked at the hard liquor stored there.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Rory glared at the computer screen in anger and frustration. She was doing some copying and pasting when she sensed someone standing at the open door.

"Finally, you're back. Can you finish this so I can leave? I have somewhere else I'd rather be," she said in irritation without looking up.

"Sorry, I don't know much about the paper business. But I could give it a shot if you think it would help." Rory looked up sharply.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Tristan in surprise.

"Bringing dinner to you," he said, holding up a paper bag. Rory jumped up and hurried around the desk, kissing him when she reached him. "It was either come here or sulk by myself with a large bottle of Scotch. The night would not have ended well."

"How did you get into the building? It's locked after five o'clock."

"I found a custodian to let me in. If there's one thing working at a school can teach a person, it's that you should make friends with the janitorial staff."

"I'm so sorry I have to work late. This is the last place I want to be right now," she said, moving her hands to his face, noticing it for the first time. "Oh my God, I can see your face again! It's so smooth!" She kissed him along his jaw line and he smiled, feeling much less angry than he had earlier.

"I thought you might like it."

"Are you going to keep it like this forever?" she asked hopefully.

"And miss another moment like this? Not likely," Tristan said when Rory finally let him go. He pulled her back before she could get very far though. "Hey, I'm sorry, I know you can't just quit. And I know your boss sucks."

"He does suck, so let's not talk about him." They sat down in the two chairs that faced Logan's desk and Tristan took out the food and plates.

"I am so ready for spring break next week," he told her.

"It must be nice to still get a spring break," Rory said enviously.

"I know. Whenever I think that teaching has too much tedious work like grading papers and reporting grades, I remember spring break and summer vacation. Then I'm okay with it."

"What are you going to do to occupy yourself for a whole week?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'm thinking about sleeping in until eight o'clock every morning."

"Wow, don't be too crazy now."

"I won't. I should probably go take the kids for a day and give Felicity some time to herself. She could do some shopping or something."

"That would be really nice of you."

"Yeah. And by night I'll probably fight crime."

"That sounds sensible," Rory said seriously, in spite of wearing a grin. "Plus you already have that red cape hanging in your closet; it would be a shame not to use it."

"Mm-hmm. Of course I'll probably have to check in on you from time to time, to keep you in line."

"To keep me in line?"

"Yes, frankly you're out of control. Fortunately, I know how to tame you."

"I'm so lucky to have found you."

"I know, right?" he smiled.

"This is really good," Rory said as she took another bite of pasta from her plate. "I haven't eaten in hours."

"Did you bring your part of the meal?" Tristan asked, raising a brow when he looked at her.

"Dessert is sitting in the refrigerator at my apartment. That is, it's there if Paris hasn't found it and helped herself. I didn't write my name on it or anything, so it's probably fair game."

"Well you're in luck," he said as he pulled an aluminum cake pan out of the bag.

"Is that tiramisu?" she asked, her eyes lighting up optimistically.

"It is; would you like some?"

"Yes," she answered, getting up to go back to the large office chair behind the desk. Tristan cut each of them a piece of the dessert and handed a plate over to Rory.

"So, what does lying out involve?" he asked her. "I assume it doesn't have anything to do with reading a book while getting a tan."

"No. It's copying and pasting the articles that the other reporters have turned in. I have to format it so it all fits and make it look just so. It's more than a little tedious," she answered. Tristan put his hands on the corners of the desk and tried to shake it. It didn't budge, though; it was quite solid. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see how sturdy this desk is," he answered, still concentrating on the piece of office furniture between them.

"Why?"

"Because I know how we're going to get back at Huntzburger for making you work late tonight," he answered seriously. Rory smirked at him before taking a bite of the tiramisu.

"Funny."

"I am in no way joking."

"You know, I don't think we're going to get the chance tonight," Rory said, looking beyond Tristan out the door. Tristan turned his head to see what she was looking at. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Logan entering the office, carrying a bottle of wine and two long stemmed glasses.

"Hey guys, what's going on in here?" he asked, looking at the food spread out on his desk. He seemed less than pleased about Tristan's presence in his office, though he masked it fairly well.

"When you were leaving earlier, I told you that I needed to go. It's our anniversary; and since you left me here on my own with the paper to put out, Tristan brought me dinner. Isn't he the sweetest?" Rory asked him with a raised brow, daring him to argue.

"He sure is," Logan agreed unenthusiastically.

"What's the wine for?" Tristan asked suspiciously.

"Oh, uh, I brought it for you guys, to make up for keeping you here late," he said, handing the bottle to Rory.

"Uh, thanks," she said with a frown. "But we won't need the glasses, Tristan has some. Does this mean I can finally go?"

"Yeah, go on, enjoy the rest of your evening," he said as Rory walked around his desk and helped Tristan repack the bag. They started to walk out of the office, but Tristan stopped, letting Rory get farther ahead before turning back around to face Logan.

"I know what you're doing here and you can stop. It's not going to work."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan countered calmly. Tristan looked down at the two long stemmed glasses Logan was still holding before looking him in the eye again.

"Yes you do," Tristan said and before turning around to leave the building. When he walked out the door, Rory was waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Hey, I thought you were right behind me," she said, looking at him.

"I was, I just forgot the tiramisu," he answered.

"You know, I don't think he got this wine for us," she said, frowning down at the expensive bottle in her hands.

"Nope, he didn't. At least, not for the 'you and I' us," he agreed. "Well, there's only one way to salvage this night, and I think you know what that is."

"I do," Rory answered serenely. "We have to drive back to your place separately. The first one there gets to be on top!" Tristan watched with an amused expression as Rory ran off to her car. He'd let her win this one.


	20. You're Crazy

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 20**: You're Crazy

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N**:This is the home stretch, can you feel it? If you can't, you're about to.

**You're Crazy**

Tristan was watching Paris run back and forth from her bedroom to the living room. She came in wearing a dress and opened the closet. She put on a jacket and gave him an expectant look. He thought about it for a moment before giving her a nod of approval. He could have shook his head no though, because, she still ran back to her bedroom and come back wearing a totally different outfit. He was wondering why he stopped by this early when he knew he'd have to wait a little while before Rory got home from work. Paris left and came running into the room again five minutes later. She was wearing yet another outfit. She had two pairs of shoes with her too, one pair was on her feet and the other was in her hands.

"What about this?" she asked Tristan, who was seated on the couch.

"That looks fine," he answered.

"Fine? I have to look better than fine. I helped organize this fundraiser, people will expect me to look perfect!" she exclaimed wildly.

"Everything you tried on would be fine. Why are you even asking me? You're just going to go change anyway."

"I have to change because you give me answers like _fine_! Fine isn't going to cut it!" she said as she grabbed two jackets and retreated to her room again.

"I feel like the _Saber Dance_ needs to be playing while you do this," he shouted back to her. He suddenly heard a key enter the key slot and he looked at the door in anticipation as Rory entered the apartment. He got up to greet her before she went over to the couch and collapsed across it, lying on her stomach.

"Tired?" he asked her as he sat down on the floor in front of her.

"In an annoyed kind of way. But I don't want to bring work home. So, how was your day?"

"It was good. I'm stressing my music history students out by cramming in one last unit before the final exam. There're two weeks left in the semester, I think I can get at least one of them to have a nervous breakdown if I really put my mind to it," he answered with self-satisfaction.

"You're evil," she told him with a smile. "You're that instructor who students have conspiracy theories about. They _think_ that you plot ways to torture them. Except in your case, they're right!"

"I have to get my kicks some how," he said with a shrug as Paris walked into the room again.

"Rory, thank God you're finally home, I need your help," she said anxiously. She jerked her head in Tristan's direction. "He's useless to me."

"What's the problem, Paris?"

"I can't decide what to wear tonight," she said, raising her arms to show Rory what she had on. She had a black dress in one hand.

"Put the black dress on. Keep the shoes you're wearing and I have a jacket that will go with it, you can borrow it." Paris sighed in relief.

"Thank you," she said, glaring at Tristan.

"Hey! I told you the black dress was fine," he protested. Rory looked at Paris and shook her head with pity, indicating that he just didn't know any better.

"You know, you could have performed at this fundraiser tonight," Paris told Tristan. "I'd have given you the gig, assuming you auditioned successfully."

"Sorry, I have other plans," he answered. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. He was clad in jeans and a black T-shirt.

"And what plans are those?"

"I'm keeping my options open," he answered. Paris shook her head and rolled her eyes before she walked back to her room.

"She's been running around like the Energizer Bunny for a half an hour."

"You got here early," Rory commented.

"A mistake I won't make again," he said as Paris returned for a final time, with an expectant look on her face.

"Very nice," Rory appraised, nodding her head.

"Yes, nice. And not at all fine," Tristan added. Paris scowled at him before picking up her purse from the love seat and heading for the door.

"I'll be late, don't wait up."

"I wasn't going to," he reassured her.

"I hope he's more chivalrous with you," Paris commented, looking at Rory.

"He is; but I doubt you're willing to do what I do to get him that way."

"You're right, I'm not."

"I wouldn't allow it either," Rory added.

"I don't even want to think about what it would entail," Paris said with a shudder as she opened the door. "I really wish you hadn't just said all that," she added before leaving.

"I'm kind of wishing that too," Tristan told Rory with a cringe.

They enjoyed the Paris-lessness of the apartment for a while. Rory put her hands on Tristan's shoulders to give him a massage while he watched the _NBC Nightly News_. He groaned in appreciation and his head fell back. One of her hands ran through his short hair and she lowered her lips to his neck. She kissed a trail down to his collar bone and he turned his head towards her.

"Hey, I'm trying to watch the news here," he protested, though his breathing had become shallower.

"I'm a reporter, I'll tell you all the news you need to know," she said before kissing along his jaw line and continuing up to his ear. He inhaled sharply when she caught his ear lobe between her teeth.

"They're talking about education; this could affect me, as an educator."

"You teach at a post secondary private institution. They're talking about public school," she said before continuing her ministrations.

"Well, where do you think the kids that I teach come from?"

"Private high schools? We went to one. Listen, I don't really care right now," she said honestly as she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over his head.

"Tell my how you really feel about it," Tristan said as he surrendered and twisted around so he could capture her mouth with his. She adjusted herself on the couch so she was on her back as Tristan's hand felt the smooth area of skin below her navy colored pencil skirt. His hand moved up until it reached her panties. Heat radiated beneath the undergarment as he massaged the sensitive area with his fingers. She moaned softly in protest when he removed his hand from between her legs; one of his hands lifted her up off the couch slightly so his other hand could unzip and then remove her skirt. She raked her fingers through his hair again as he started to kiss her neck. He was moving farther down, so she started to undo the buttons of her blouse, allowing more access for him to continue his southward journey. He ran his fingers along the elastic of her panties, but she caught his attention by releasing the front clasp of her bra.

"I always liked the frontsies," he muttered as his hands moved to the area the bra had been supporting. His hands drove her crazy for a while before they migrated south, playing with her panties again; this time, he removed the offending article of clothing. He stopped to take off his pants after he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket. When he turned back to Rory, she had disposed of her blouse and bra. He drank in the sight of her lying there, waiting for him, before sliding his body on top of hers. He kissed her on the lips again before they merged as one. The moved together, Rory's fingers were on Tristan's back and she dug her fingernails in as waves crashed down upon her. He paused to let her catch her breath before he continued to drive into her. They peaked together and then relaxed on the couch as they recovered.

They stayed like that until Tristan heard Rory's stomach growl. Satisfy one need, work up another, he thought as he got up and put on his boxers. He walked into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two plates. Rory was sitting up on the couch; she was wearing her panties again with his black T-shirt.

"That's what I call snappy service," she complimented as he sat down and handed her a plate with a sandwich on it. "If I told you to jump would you ask how high?"

"Don't push it. You act like I've never had to drop and give someone fifty before," he said. "I'm just being chivalrous, as Paris put it. Maybe you couldn't tell since I don't have my chainmail on."

"Yeah, that would have helped," Rory said as she frowned at the television. "What in the world is Brian Williams talking about?"

"I don't know, Mary," he answered pointedly, "I was a little distracted."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The next day, Rory was at her office desk, printing out a long document when she faintly heard an odd noise, but she was unsure of its source. It took her a moment of looking around to realize the sound was coming from her purse, which was in the top drawer of her desk. She quickly opened the drawer and pulled out her cell phone. A quick glance at the caller ID told her that it was from an unknown number.

"Hello?" she answered. "Yes, this is Rory Gilmore. Mm-hmm. Yes." She listened as the caller explained why they were calling. It was a somewhat lengthy answer.

A moment later Rory responded again. "Really? You're kidding, right?" she asked in shock. She listened a bit more before, "Oh . . . well, I'm going to need some time to think about it, if that's alright." She listened again as the caller spoke.

"Okay, I will definitely get back to you, thank you so much," she said before putting the phone down in wonder. She looked down at her watch and gasped as she suddenly remembered something. She got up and walked down the hall, smiling at Joyce as she passed the receptionists' desk. She poked her head into Logan's office.

"Logan, sorry I forgot to ask sooner, but would it be alright if I take a late lunch, it'll be long, too. My grandparents are hosting a luncheon at Yale for some alumni. It's at the building they named after me, so I'm kind of obligated to go."

"Sure, I know about the party, I was invited," Logan answered.

"You were?"

"Yeah, Ace, I'm Yale alum, remember."

"True, well, alright. I guess I'll see you at the party then," Rory said before returning to her office.

LLLLLLLLLLL

Rory was conversing with some of Richard's colleagues, but she was only half hearing what they were saying. She smiled and nodded a lot, occasionally inserting a question at the appropriate time. She loved her grandparents, but sometimes these events were a bit much. Just then, Richard came over and stole Rory away from the group she was with. He led her over to some friends of his. He beamed as he eagerly showed off his intelligent granddaughter to his guests. After some time, she excused herself to refresh her drink.

As Rory turned from the bar, Logan approached her. She glanced around quickly, but there was no escape. She sighed and braced herself for the interaction.

"Hey, Ace, there you are. I was wondering where you were."

"Well, you found me," she said coolly as he ordered his drink. After the drink was in his hand, Rory was disappointed that he walked with her.

"This is quite a shin-dig," he commented, looking around at the other party goers and the wait staff circulating with trays of hors 'devours.

"Yeah, leave it to Emily Gilmore to throw a good party," Rory commented indifferently.

"We had some good times here, didn't we?" Logan asked nostalgically.

"I guess so. That was years ago, though."

"It wasn't _that_ long ago," Logan argued.

"It was long enough," she replied stiffly. Emily caught sight of them and came over to the pair.

"Rory, Logan, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Emily," Logan replied kindly.

"This is a great party, Grandma," Rory complimented with a smile.

"Thank you, I'm worried we won't have enough salmon puffs though, some of the people here didn't bother to RSVP, as though it's such a hard thing to do."

"Don't worry, I won't have any puffs," Rory said.

"Don't be silly, Rory, we're at a party in a building named after you. If anyone should get a salmon puff, it's you. Besides, the lunch will be served soon, so everyone should be fine."

"That's a good point."

"I must say," Emily said with a glimmer in her eye, "it really is nice to see you two here together."

"Oh, we're not together, we came separately," Rory said quickly. "We just happened to have come from the same place."

"Yeah, but we found our way to each other. I think in the end, we always will," Logan said conspiratorially. Rory turned to him sharply, a look of disgust on her face. Even Emily gave him a startled look, the glimmer in her eye replaced with a look of bewilderment. Rory took Logan's drink from his hand and put it on the tray of a passing waiter along with her own glass.

"Can I talk to you in private?" she asked Logan crossly. She didn't give him a chance to answer, however, as she grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the building.

"Logan, what is _wrong_ with you?" she exclaimed when they were a decent distance away from the building.

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"Like hell there isn't! You have been acting strange and inappropriate for a _really_ long time now."

"I always act appropriate and professional," he argued.

"Professional? You've been acting about as professional as a sheriff's deputy from _Reno_ _911_! What was that supposed to mean back there: we always _find_ each other?" Logan looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at Rory.

"I just. . . I hate that you're with that guy."

"That _guy_?"

"Yes, DuGrey," he said sourly. "I've had to see you with him all year and I'm sick of it."

"Tristan is my boyfriend! And our relationship is none of your business!"

"_You're_ my business, Rory; and I'm tired of this triangle we're in. It's gone on long enough."

"Triangle? What are you _talking_ about?"

"This triangle between you, me, and _him_!"  
"Logan, there _is_ no triangle! If you want to put things into geometric terms, then I'll be point A and Tristan will be point B; we're a straight line! Any other lines or angles were drawn by _you_! Does the phrase, delusions of grandeur, mean anything to you?" she shouted at him. Passers by looked at them with interest. Clearly, the heated exchange was more entertaining than their next class.

"Come on Rory, you and I fit together! We're both journalist, we both went to Yale! What is _he_? A pianist, who _does_ that?"

"Someone with talent, who isn't afraid to do his own thing! And who cares if he didn't go to Yale? I don't! And that's all that matters!" she yelled angrily.

"He can't give you everything the way I can."

"What is _everything_, Logan?" she spat. "A big house and the responsibility to put on parties like this? A place on your arm, like a trophy? Because you should know by now that I don't care about that stuff! I don't want that life!"

"Come on, Rory; just admit that you still care about me. I'm not afraid to say that I care about _you_!" Logan pleaded desperately.

"_No_, Logan! I don't _care_ about you!" Rory insisted. "I _don't_."

"How can you say that when you know it isn't true? You've become my right hand at the office. You cut your long weekend short back in January and you stay late whenever I ask. You even stayed when it was your anniversary! Explain _that_ if you don't care about me," he demanded. Rory looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You are my _boss! _ I _have_ to do things you tell me to do, as it pertains to my _job_! That's it! _That_ is the extent of our relationship!" Rory turned to go, but before she got away, Logan grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Rory, wait! Don't marry him! I love you, marry _me_!" Rory gasped and looked back at him. She jerked her arm away sharply.

"_What_?" she demanded with a wild look in her eyes as she backed away from him.

"You heard me and I'm not going to take it back."

"Logan, you're _crazy!_ During what part of this conversation did you get the impression that what you just said would elicit a positive response?" she asked incredulously.

"We belong together, Rory, I know it," Logan insisted. "You would know it too if you'd just give us another chance." Rory looked at him with pity.

"You're clearly not getting this, so I'm going to need Steven Tyler's help when I tell you this, and pay attention: _Dream On_. You and I are _completely_ over. We're finished, we have been for a _very_ long time," Rory explained as patiently as she could, Logan tried to interrupt. "_No_, you will listen. It's no coincidence that this _love_ you claim to have for me, only came about when you saw me happy with someone else. You _don't_ love me, Logan. And I absolutely do _not_ love you; I love _Tristan_. You just want what you can't have. And you _can't_ have me."

"But Rory," Logan tried to protest.

"No, Logan," Rory said sternly, backing up. Before she walked away she calmly said what she should have said a long, long time ago. "I quit."

Rory turned on her heel quickly and put as much distance between herself and Logan as she possibly could.


	21. Breakdown

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 21**: Breakdown

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Breakdown**

Rory felt as though she might jump out of her skin as she drove down the street. She wasn't even sure where she was headed when she first set out; she just knew that she had to get _away_. She had been driving around aimlessly for quite a while, trying to calm her nerves. After she had regained her senses, she just drove around to kill time. But the juncture to go to her destination had finally come. She turned into the apartment parking lot and got out of her car. She quickly walked up to the second floor and knocked at the familiar door and waited patiently.

"Well hello, are you finished with work early today?" Tristan asked as he let her in.

"You could say that," she answered and walked into his living room. She sat down on the couch, but got up and started to pace back and forth a minute later. She was unable to sit still.

"Is something wrong, Mary?" Tristan asked, both amused and slightly concerned.

"No. In fact, I have news," she said with wide eyes.

"Me too," he said with a smile.

"Really?" she stopped and looked up, caught off guard. "What's your news?"

Tristan didn't say anything; instead he pulled a folded letter from his back pocket. He unfolded it and Rory recognized the letterhead at the top of the paper. He handed it over for her perusal.

"Oh my God, you got into Yale?"

"Yeah, it's not the first time, either," he answered, amused at her surprise. "I think the letter was lost in the mail or something, I was expecting it sooner."

"You're going to start working on your doctorate's degree at _Yale_ this fall," she stated. "That's incredible! I didn't even know you applied, when did you do this?"

"I submitted proposal for my dissertation last fall and auditioned a couple of months ago," he answered with a shrug, as though getting into an Ivy League graduate school was a breeze. "You have no idea how many times I almost said something, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It's a _huge_ surprise! What happened to taking Yale and shoving it?" Rory smiled.

"Oh, I still stand by that statement. But I can deal with it since it means so much to you."

"You will love it there, it's amazing," she told him sincerely.

"Yeah, that's what you've always said; you make a pretty persuasive argument in Yale's favor. I have to get my doctorate anyway, if I want to keep teaching at the college level. So I thought I might as well go where I could earn some points with you and your grandparents," he explained. Rory paled at the mention of her grandparents. For a moment she had forgotten all about the luncheon.

"Tristan, that's fantastic. I'm so happy for you," she said, hugging him.

"I'm glad you're happy. This means I'm going to be pretty busy though, so you can't be distracting me all the time," he said, sternly shaking a finger in her direction while smiling at the same time. "Now, what is your news? I have a feeling that tonight is going to be a night to celebrate."

Rory paused a moment.

"I quit my job," she stated, not taking her eyes from Tristan's.

"You quit? Just like that? You won't have to deal with Huntzburger every day now," Tristan said happily.

"I know, I just reached the breaking point and had to quit right there on the spot."

"But where are you going to find another job? I mean, that's what was stopping you from quitting before." She looked away.

"Actually, I've been offered a job," she answered nervously. "Today."

"I was right, we _will_ be celebrating. What paper wants you?" Rory started to pace back and forth again.

"Do you remember when we were in New York and I had lunch with those editors who had read some of my stuff?"

"I remember; it was when I went to see my mom. They're hiring now? Does the _New York Times_ want you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a half smile. But Rory just shook her head and kept talking.

"Those editors still aren't hiring; but they passed my name off to one who was. He was impressed with my election coverage from back in November and called me for a phone interview a week or two ago. I really didn't think anything of it; it was just over the phone, after all. But then I got a call with an offer this morning; it was totally unexpected."

"So, what's the job?" Tristan asked with a smile.

"It's a political beat, what I've wanted for years. One of their reporters is quitting because she's having a baby. And the editor, Paul, said that if I was interested in doing some travel sometimes for the Life section, that that might be a possibility in the future."

"So are you going to tell me what paper it is? Or do I need to start guessing?"

"It's the_ Detroit Free Press_," Rory finally revealed with a cringe. Tristan frowned and sat down at the words.

"Detroit, _Michigan_?" he asked slowly with furrowed brows.

"Yeah, that's the one," she said as she continued to pace. "But you know what? I was thinking about it this afternoon and I don't think I'm going to take it."

"What?" he asked, looking up at her. "Why not?"

"Well, I can't just pack up and leave."

"Give me one good reason why you wouldn't take your dream job."

"I have a life hear. My family is here."

"Your job is a big part of your life and you just quit that. You're family always knew you might get a job in another part of the country; or world, for that matter. I said to give me a _good_ reason."

"_You're_ here," she said, stopping to look at him. Tristan shook his head though.

"You can't just pass this up, where else are you going to find another offer like this? You've said before how no one is handing out journalism jobs."

"Don't worry, I'll find something."

"Where? You're not going to stay here and settle for something because of me. You'll resent me if you don't go to Michigan."

"No I won't! You're not your dad, Tristan; I won't feel caged up if I stay here with you! I won't be settling!" she insisted.

"Maybe that's what you think now, but you'll always wonder what you could have done with this job. I'm not going to let you pass it up!"

"Why are you trying to force me into this?"

"I'm not forcing you into anything, Rory! You're going to take this job because _journalism_ is your dream, not me."

"I'm not going," she said determinedly.

"You _have_ to," he argued.

"_NO!_ You can't make me go!" Rory exclaimed, anger rising. For a moment, Tristan considered her.

"You're right, I can't," he said sorrowfully. "But I can give you one less reason to stay."

"What?" she asked sharply. This was starting to feel like an out of body experience. "What are you saying?"

Tristan stood up slowly and looked Rory in the eye. He swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat. "We're through." It was like the wind got knocked out of her.

"_What_?" she said again, louder this time, tears springing to her eyes. "_We're through?_ Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes," Tristan answered, though he could barely get the word out. "Now there's nothing stopping you from taking the job."

"You can't just make this decision for me!"

"Well at least now if you don't take it, it won't be because of me."

"So that's it then? You're washing your hands of me?" she asked incredulously.

"Damn it, Rory, don't make this harder than it already is," he pleaded.

"Fine," she said resolutely. "I'll take the job. I hope you're happy."

Rory tore her eyes from Tristan before storming out the door and down the stairs. She got back into her car, but didn't start the engine. She sat for what felt like forever, crying until her eyes wouldn't produce any more tears. After some time, she wiped her eyes on her shirt so she could see and started the car. She drove away without looking back.

In his living room, a devastated Tristan was sitting on his couch, his face in his hands, wondering how his life could have turned upside down in such a short period of time.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Lorelai was sitting in the kitchen at home, looking over various worksheets with numbers and alphabet letters written on them. She made a stack of the neatest work to hang up on the refrigerator. She got up to remove the old work from the appliance when Rory walked into the room. Lorelai looked at her in surprise.

"Rory, I wasn't expecting you, what brings you around on a Thursday evening?" she asked her daughter, who glanced out the window above the sink as her face twisted sadly. "Hey, Batman, why so serious?" Lorelai said soothingly as she walked around the table to Rory.

"I'm moving."

"What, why?"

"I have to go to Michigan because. . . God! I can't believe he _proposed_ like that! And then Tristan," she rambled incoherently before bursting into tears.

"What? Tristan proposed and you're going to Michigan? That's a weird honeymoon location; I can see why you'd be upset. I can talk to him for you."

"No. I can't see him any more so I had to . . . and now I have to go."

"Well Rory, I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that if you can field dress a moose, then you're ready for your run in the Alaskan gubernatorial race. But the bad news is that I still don't know what you're trying to say.

"I got a job offer," she said miserably.

"That's good right?"

"No, it's not. It's in _Detroit_," she said the city name as though it tasted bad in her mouth.

"That's really far away."

"I know and I don't want to go," Rory pouted. Lorelai was surprised that she didn't stomp her foot as she said it. "But I have to take it. I have no _life_ here," she said bitterly.

"What do you mean you don't have a life here? You have a job here if you don't want to go to Detroit," Lorelai said sympathetically.

"No, I don't."

"Since when?" Lorelai asked with furrowed brows.

"Since this afternoon. Since Logan lost his mind and begged me to marry him."

"_What_?" Rory nodded and rolled her eyes in disgust.

"He freaked out about my being with Tristan. I just quit. Right there in the middle of Grandma and Grandpa's Yale luncheon. Or, outside of it, at least."

"Wow, talk about flying over the cuckoo's nest. But Tristan must be glad that you want to stay." Rory shook her head and sat down. She suddenly felt exhausted.

"He broke up with me. So I would go," Rory said, wiping her eyes with her fingers as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. "I guess we were in different places in the relationship. I wanted to stay with him, but he wanted to break up."

"I'm still not sure I understand." Rory sighed and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

"He won't let me pass up on a job that I've wanted for so long," she explained slowly, staring straight ahead.

"Well, Rory, it sounds like you _are_ in the same place. You're willing to stay and he's willing to let go." Rory thought about this quietly for a while.

"It doesn't matter though, does it? There is no relationship."

"When do you have to leave?" Lorelai asked, changing the subject. Rory shrugged.

"I still have to call to accept. I guess I can go as soon as I want, there's nothing holding me here."

"Do you want to stay here tonight? We could watch movies and eat too much junk food. I could call Luke and he can bring us food."

"No thanks, you have to go to work in the morning. And I guess I have some packing to do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Rory answered, getting up.

"Alright, well, let me know if you need anything at all," Lorelai said, hugging Rory.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Paris was in her office, reading a document by the light of her desk lamp when her phone rang. She finished the sentence she was on and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Paris?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Tristan. You're still at work then?" he slurred.  
"Obviously, if I'm answering my office phone. What do you want? Are you drunk?"

"You need to go home."

"Why? What's wrong? Did someone die?"

"No, just go home. Rory will probably need you if she's not in Stars Hollow."

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"Just go," he said before hanging up.

Paris put away her work and gathered her things. She went out to her car and got in. Her office was in Hartford, so it took about twenty minutes before she got home. When she entered the apartment, Rory was sitting at the table, half empty glass in hand. She looked up when Paris came in.

"Paris, you're home. Come have a drink with me," she said, gesturing for Paris to join her.

"Okay," Paris agreed. She didn't miss the fact that the poison picked tonight was alcohol rather than a mere pint of ice cream.

"You're so lucky, you don't need anyone. You're an island."

"Sure, just call me the lone wolf," Paris said as she poured whatever was in the pitcher on the kitchen counter into a glass and moved to a chair at the table.

"Lane is lucky, too."

"She's not alone like me, though."

"That's true, she's married. To Dave," Rory slurred. "They're going to have babies one day. Probably after she finishes school, but if she wants, she could have some at any time. Because they're married, they have each other."

"I guess she's lucky, if a family sounds attractive."

"I'll never have that," Rory lamented, shaking her head down at her drink sadly.

"Why not?"

"Because the only person who wants to marry me is _Logan_. And I'm not going to marry _him_."

"I can see how Tristan would have a problem with that," Paris said cautiously, looking at her roommate for some sort of reaction. Rory looked away and Paris saw her wipe her eye with the back of her hand.

"Why would he care?" she asked, sniffling a little.

"Because he loves you; you know that," Paris said gently. She still didn't know what was going on.

"Then why doesn't he want me to stay with him?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Stay? Are you going somewhere?" Rory nodded.

"Detroit. It's in Michigan," she explained. "I've been offered a job at the _Detroit Free Press_."

"That's a good paper, congratulations," Paris said, though she didn't sound extremely happy, it would mean her roommate and friend would be leaving.

"Thanks, I guess," Rory said, blinking quickly. "It's everything I've always wanted."

"You're definitely taking it then?"

"Yeah, I have nothing to keep me here," she said thickly before starting to cry. Paris got up to hug Rory, who cried on her shoulder like a child.

"It sounds like you've had a long day and you look tired; why don't you go to bed? I'll make you macaroni and cheese before I go to work tomorrow morning to cure your pending hangover."

"Okay," Rory said weakly. "Thank you. You're a good friend."

Paris helped Rory to her room and made sure she climbed into bed without trouble. Paris thought for a moment before sighing and going into her own bedroom. She traded her suit for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. There was still a slight chill in the air, so she put on a light jacket before heading out the door. In ten minute's time, she was pulling into a well lit parking lot. She got out of her car and found who she was looking for without having to walk up the stairs. Tristan was sitting on the concrete stairs that led down to the parking lot.

"Tristan," she nodded in greeting.

"Paris," he returned.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on?"

"Not really. That would involve reliving it," he answered as he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and put it to his mouth. Paris watched with incredulous disgust as his thumb flicked at a lighter.

"You don't smoke," she retorted accusingly.

"I could smoke," he argued sourly.

"What are you? Sixteen and trying to prove a point?" She grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and snatched the lighter from his hand. "Give me the rest," she demanded, holding out her hand and scowling. He returned her scowl and took the pack out of his pocket. He handed it to her and sulked.

"Now, what don't you want to relive?"

He looked away and stared into the distance. Paris sighed and sat down next to him.

"Just tell me what happened."

"How is she?"

"About as good as you, minus the nicotine. Tristan," she said sternly, "_tell_ me."

"She's moving to Michigan for a job and we broke up," he answered, staring forward.

"Mutually?" Tristan shook his head slowly. He swallowed hard before he spoke.

"No. She wasn't going to go. I did what I had to do so she would," he answered. Paris discreetly looked away as Tristan quickly swiped a hand at his face and took a shaky breath. Neither said anything for a while; the only sound coming from the bugs chirping in the night.

"You're forming words properly," Paris observed. "So you aren't drunk." Tristan shook his head.

"Not any more. I ran out of alcohol a while ago. I was going to get more but this was as far as I got."

"Why don't you go up and get some sleep?"

"I don't want to go back up there."

"Well I can't exactly take you home with me," she said impatiently. "What are planning to do? Sit out here all night?" Tristan just shrugged his shoulders, truly not caring one way or the other. "Come on, get up."

"Why?" he asked, looking up at her as she stood.

"Because we're leaving and I can't carry you to my car."

"Where are we going?" he asked, slowly standing.

"I'll figure something out," she answered as they walked to her car. Paris drove back to Hartford, watching the street signs carefully. When she found the one she was looking for, she turned into a subdivision. She parked on the side of the street and they looked at the house they were next to.

"My brother lives here," Tristan commented.

"Good, I wasn't sure if I could find it in the dark. Come on."

"But it's getting late, they're probably asleep."

"Then we'll wake them up, now get out," she instructed, getting out herself. They walked up the sidewalk and Paris saw a piece of paper fall out of Tristan's pocket. She picked it up and read the first sentence. "You got into Yale," she observed. "Congratulations."

Tristan didn't respond. He gave Paris a sidelong glance and snatched the letter away. He roughly folded it in half an extra time and shoved it back into his pocket.

"No one's very happy about their accomplishments today," she muttered as they approached the door and rang the bell. After a couple of minutes, the door swung open; Matthew was on the other side, looking tired and confused.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking from his brother to Paris.

"Can he stay here tonight?" she asked as her answer.

"Why?"

"Because Rory's moving far away and they broke up and I can only take care of one of them at a time," she answered.

"Oh. Sure, come on in, Tristan," he said, moving to let his younger brother in.

"Thanks," Paris said before walking back to her car.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Two weeks later, the mid-May weather was pleasant; however, not everyone was enjoying it. Lorelai and Paris were sitting with Rory at the Hartford airport. They were each in their own world though, until Lorelai sighed and looked at her daughter.

"So, you're sure you have everything you need?"

"Yes. The moving company will bring the rest of my things after I find an apartment. Paris will make sure they get all of my stuff."

"Okay, good. Let me know if there's anything at the house that you need, I'll get it to Paris. And you're going to call when you land?"

"Yes."

"I think it's time," Paris said from Rory's other side.

"Alright, this is it," Lorelai said as the three stood up. She hugged Rory and they both tried to hold back tears; neither was very successful.

"Tell Luke and Jeremy bye for me," Rory requested of her mother; she could barely talk, though. "And tell Grandma that I'm sorry that I didn't say much at dinner last week."

"I will. And she understands."

Rory turned to Paris and gave her a hug. They walked with her as far as they were allowed before saying their final good byes. When Rory was out of earshot, Lorelai turned to Paris.

"First Rory, next Oprah; I don't think I can take it if anyone else leaves. Have you seen Tristan? How is he?"

"He's not good, last time I checked. I think he failed some of his students just for the hell of it. He feels so horrible about having to break Rory's heart that he's not acknowledging that his own isn't in one piece."

"This all sucks," Lorelai sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek. Paris nodded in agreement.

"I still don't know why she quit all of a sudden; not that I'm complaining that she finally quit," Paris commented. Lorelai looked at her with a confused expression.

"She didn't tell you?"

"No. She's been moping around for two weeks, so I didn't ask. She made one weird comment about Logan, though. I _know_ it was because of him. I always knew it would be."

"Oh yeah, it definitely was. Do you have time to come by the house? I took off for the whole day, I can fill you in."

"Yeah, I have some time."

Not too far away and unknown to the girls, Tristan was leaning against a wall. He watched as, when Rory was through security, she turned to her mother and friend to wave before disappearing around the corner.

"Good bye, Rory," he quietly said in a sad voice. He then turned and was swallowed by the crowd of people who all had places to go and people to see.


	22. Since I Don't Have You

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 22**: Since I Don't Have You

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Since I Don't Have You**

Rory was quickly walking down a sidewalk in downtown Lansing on a Monday afternoon. She was just leaving the capitol building and heading back to her Detroit office. It was a nice office. She had a nice big desk and a window with a pleasant view. The other reporters were friendly and her new editor was great. So she should probably get back to all of the niceness. It was gloomy out; it had been raining on and off all day. She hoped a dementor didn't swoop down while she was outside, she didn't think she'd be up to producing a Patronus Charm.

She got back to her office around four thirty and worked for another three hours before logging off of her computer and leaving. She drove the fifteen minutes to her one bedroom apartment. Her clothes were wet from walking in the rain, even though it was brief, so she decided to take a warm shower before putting on her pajamas. When she opened her top drawer, she lifted the top shirt; under it was a red T-shirt. She picked it up and unfolded it; Indiana University was written across the front. She glared at the article of clothing and shoved it back into the drawer. She put on a different shirt before she walked into the living room.

She picked up her phone and sat down on the couch. She sighed and considered her options. It was bath night for her brother; therefore, Lorelai would be occupied. She glanced at the clock on the wall; Paris would still be at the office, no doubt, burning the midnight oil. Lane had class a couple of nights a week. She briefly thought about calling a former co-worker from the _Journal_ _Inquirer_, but changed her mind quickly. She really didn't care how things were there.

Rory put the phone down and traded it for the remote.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP

A few nights later, Paris looked at the caller ID on her ringing phone and sighed grimly. She glanced at her couch and scowled; grudgingly, she answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Paris, hi. How are you?" Rory asked on the other end.

"I'm good, how are you?"

"I'm fine. How are things at the firm? You're home at seven o'clock on a week night, so I guess things are calm."

"Things at the firm are fine, I'm currently between cases, but tomorrow I start a big one. I'm allowing myself one evening of rest first."

"That's good, you work too hard."

"I guess. How's the paper?"

"It's good. I was in Washington D.C. last week interviewing some Congressmen. It was for a series of articles I just finished writing."

"That's not too far away; you didn't want to stop in for a visit?"

"I couldn't, it was a quick trip. I got what I needed and then I had to get right back."

"I see."

"So, have you seen my mom?"

"I've seen Lorelai, yes."

"How is she?"

"She's misses you, of course, but she's coping. I'm sure you knew that, though. You don't need to find out from me how your mother is; I'm sure you talk to her all the time."

"Yeah, you're right. So, everyone is fine then?" Rory asked timidly. Paris rolled her eyes and sighed. She didn't want to give any more than Rory was willing to ask, but figured they might as well slug it out and get it over with.

"No Rory, not everyone is fine," she reluctantly conceded.

"What do you mean?" Rory asked stubbornly.

"You know what it means. You're always too afraid to ask, but I'll tell you anyway. Everyone is not fine. Everyone is completely miserable."

"I don't know what you mean," Rory said stiffly.

"Yes you do, so stop playing dumb. _Everyone_ has been a wreck since you left last month. _Everyone_ stops by two or three times a week with thinly veiled inquiries about you. _Everyone_ is pathetically lonely and depressed without you."

"Well that's not my fault! I didn't want to move here in the first place!"

"Stop it, Rory, you _had_ to go," Paris said sternly. "And if you really want to know how he is, then why don't you just call him?"

"I can't just call him! He obviously doesn't want to talk to me if he'd rather I live half a country away!"

"Rory, I swear, sometimes I don't know how you can be this stupid! How did you even get into Yale?" Paris asked, the volume of her voice rising with her temper.

"Great, so now I'm stupid?" Rory asked, her own temper elevating as well.

"No, but you're doing a pretty good impression of it! You were going to try to stay here, which is romantic and all, but he was going to hate himself if he thought he was holding you back from the career you've wanted forever," Paris said. She was basically shouting into the phone now. "You _know_ he loves you and just wants what's best for you, so you can stop making him out to be the bad guy!"

"I should have known you'd take his side," Rory fumed.

"Oh my God; I can't do this," Paris said incredulously. She took a deep breath and did her best to keep her cool. "Listen Rory, I know you're still hurt and upset about all of this, but I can't be your go between. You are my best friend, so I will always be here to talk, but you can't just call me hoping I'll slip in some information about Tristan; it's not fair."

"You're right; I'm sorry," Rory said in a shaky voice. Paris was pretty sure she could hear her crying softly.

"It's okay. Now I should go, I'll talk to you later," Paris said, calmer now.

"Okay, bye Paris," Rory said before hanging up. Paris sat her phone down and sighed heavily.

"You didn't have to yell."

"She didn't give me much of a choice," Paris snapped, looking over at Tristan, who was lying on her couch and staring at the ceiling.

"You made me sound really great, by the way. Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"Well what did you want me to tell her? Did you want me to _lie_? I guess I could have told her that you're the picture of happiness, that you're seeing a long parade of gorgeous women, and that you're enjoying your new freedom, eagerly waiting to start work on your doctorate in a couple of months," Paris ranted, her anger back. She was starting to get a headache. "Is _that_ what I should have said?"

"No, but you didn't have say all the stuff you did. You could have just said that I was fine."

"But you're _not_ fine. Everyone knows."

"_She_ doesn't have to know that," he grumbled.

"She asked; sort of. I just call it like I see it. And if she really wants to know how you are, she could call you. Or here's a crazy idea: _you_ could call _her_," Paris suggested impatiently, "since _you_ were the one to call things off."

"You know I _had_ to."

"I know you _think_ you had to. Breaking up was pretty drastic action, though. Don't you think she could have been persuaded to go without having to decide for her? You didn't have to end it all just like that."

"Don't you get it? She wasn't going to go _at_ _all_. I think you can agree that it was a ridiculous notion for her to think she could throw her life away for me. Besides, she deserves to be with someone who is actually with her; and not be tethered to someone hundreds of miles away. She's better off without me."

"Well that's a pretty self-defeatist attitude. I'm sure a Greek tragedy will be written about you any day now," Paris said scornfully.

"Either way, I can't call her. She hates me," Tristan said morosely. "And not for the first time."

Paris sighed before going on, "Rory doesn't hate you, Tristan; if she did she wouldn't care how you are. She just feels like you pushed her away—which makes her feel alternately mad and sad about missing you. It kind of depends on the day. But don't beat yourself up about it. You successfully did what no one else was able to do: you got her to move on to a different job. You should be congratulating yourself."

"Well, sorry I haven't thrown myself a big party yet. I haven't felt very celebratory lately."

"You're both being stubborn mules about this."

"That's not true," Tristan argued quietly.

"How is it not true?" Paris demanded.

"Rory's a girl, which would make her a jenny." She stared at him in disbelief.

"My mistake. I know you're only here for the same reason Rory calls me as often as she does. You both just want information about the other. Wouldn't you rather go home and lay on your own couch?" Tristan shook his head.

"I have bad memories there."

"And _my_ couch holds better memories for you?" she asked with a raised brow. Tristan couldn't control the half hearted smirk that came over his face.

"I'm going to go ahead and pretend like I didn't see that," Paris grimaced.

Tristan looked across the room and saw a pile of neatly folded clothes sitting on the floor. "Is that her stuff?" he asked.

"Yeah, I borrowed some of her clothes now and then over the years. Whenever I find something of hers in my closet I add it to the stack. She can get it the next time she's around."

"I could run it over to Luke and Lorelai's for you."

"It doesn't really matter, it's not like she'll be able to wear it from Stars Hollow," Paris said.

"I don't mind," Tristan said, sitting up. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

"Fine, knock yourself out. I'll get a box," she said, getting up and moving to the living room closet. She packed everything up and handed the box to Tristan. After he left, she picked up her phone again and dialed.

"Hello," Lorelai answered, she sounded weary.

"Lorelai, this is Paris. I just wanted to give you a heads up, there is a petulant twenty six year old headed your way."

"Ah geez, I just got off the phone with one of those," she groaned. "What quality do we possess that attract these people to us?"

"When I find out I'll let you know," Paris promised bleakly.

"Well thanks for the warning."

"No problem," Paris said and hung up the phone. She turned the phone's ringer off and flopped down on the couch.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Lorelai went out the front door and sat in a wicker chair on the porch. She waved to some of the people who strolled by and heckled some others. After about thirty minutes, a car pulled up to the house. Tristan got out and took a box out of the back seat. He walked up the steps to the porch and gave Lorelai a timid look.

"Hello, Tristan, I've been expecting you."

"I'm just bringing by some of Rory's stuff."

"Why don't you come in for a drink?"

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, come on," Lorelai answered, standing up and opening the door. They went into the kitchen and Lorelai poured them each a glass of lemonade; Tristan placed the box on the table. She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. He sighed and complied. Neither spoke for a minute; Lorelai sat across from him with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing him.

"So, how have you been?" she finally asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine."

"Are you lying?"

"It's possible."

"I can tell. How are you _really_?"

"I've been better," he answered more honestly.

"Paris told me you're going to Yale this fall, congratulations."

"Thanks," he said blankly. "So, how, uh, is . . . how's—,"

"Rory is okay," Lorelai answered; though she was fairly certain he'd already asked the same thing of Paris. "She likes her job, she's proud of the work she's doing there."

"I can hear when a sentence isn't finished. It sounds like there's a but coming."

"You're right, she likes her job, but she's really lonely." He hung his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's my fault, I'm sorry. I just want her to be happy," he said miserably, looking up at Lorelai. Her heart broke a little for him when she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I know you do."

"I don't think _she_ believes that."

"Maybe not on the surface; but I think deep down she does."

"Great," he said tonelessly. "You know why I had to do it, why I had to . . . break up with her. I did the right thing; right? She couldn't stay here because of _me_."

"You sell yourself pretty short, don't you think? She was happy with you," Lorelai said before sighing. "But I'm not sure. Who knows how long she would have had to wait for another offer. Jobs _are_ hard to come by these days," she mused. "I don't even know how many nights I've lost sleep, wondering what would have happened if Logan hadn't snapped and proposed like that. She could have kept working there until something else came along; preferably something a lot closer. It would have saved both of you a lot of heartache." Tristan looked up sharply and put up hand to stop her.

"Back up. _What_?" Lorelai's eyes got wider. It suddenly seemed like she'd said too much.

"Uh, nothing," she answered quickly.

"No, no, I heard something new in there. And I think you know what it was."

"Okay, I guess you deserve to know. Logan had a lapse of sanity and basically told her he wanted her back. She tried to fend him off but then he threw out this ridiculous proposal. And it _was_ ridiculous."

"So she quit after that?"

"Yeah. Well, after she told him to move on because she loves _you_." Tristan looked wounded. With his elbows on the table he rubbed his face. "I take it she didn't tell you that part." He shook his head.

"It didn't come up," he replied. "I made her take the first thing that came along because she no longer had that job. And she quit because of _him_? _That_ was the breaking point?"

"Yeah," she cringed.

"You know what? I have to go."

"What? Where do you have to go?" Lorelai asked, panic in her voice.

"Don't worry about it. Here's her stuff from Paris," he said, pointing to the box as he stood. "And there were a few things at my place that I threw in."

"Hold on, I don't think this is Rory's. It's too big. Ha! That's what _she_ said!" Lorelai exclaimed, picking up a sweater sitting on the top. Tristan looked at her curiously, so she wiped the smile off her face. "No, but really, I think it's yours." Lorelai held the sweater out for him.

"Oh; no. She gave that to me the first time we—I mean; it was a birthday present."

"Thanks for editing that sentence to get the G rating. But Tristan, if it was a gift then she'd want you to have it."

"Just hold on to it," he said, moving to the door while pulling out his phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Information; I need to pay someone a visit."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked with concern.

"Probably not, but I don't really have anything else to lose, do I?"

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Tristan scowled at the door in front of him before he knocked sharply. He stood with his arms folded and didn't have to wait long for the door to open.

"DuGrey, what are you doing here?" Logan asked.

"I heard a story about you tonight. And it just _can't_ be true. Because it sounds _outrageous_ for a boss to ask an employee to marry him when she's _clearly_ with someone," Tristan explained in a scornful tone.

"What does it matter any more? You won; she made it very clear that she wants to be with you."

"I don't know what you think I won, seeing how she's gone now."

"Gone where?"

"It's none of your business; but she moved for a job."

"So; what? I guess you're here to hit me, then?"

"I _was_. But you're really not worth it. Something you said once always bothered me, though. So I just wanted to let you know that you were wrong."

"I was wrong about what?"

"You and I," Tristan said, pointing to each of them in turn, "are _nothing_ alike. We are _very_ different." Tristan gave a last disgusted look and walked away before Logan could respond.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP

On Sunday evening, Rory picked up the phone and dialed Lane's number—she didn't have the speed dial on her new phone set up yet—and waited for Lane to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Lane? Hi, it's me."

"Rory, how _are_ you? How is life in the three-one-three?"

"The what?"

"That's your area code."

"Oh. It's alright, I guess," Rory answered unenthusiastically.

"Have you found any place in Detroit that you like yet? Not an apartment, I know you found one of those. But a library or a coffee shop or a park or someplace like that?"

"No. There aren't any places like that in Detroit."

"Alright, well, maybe you just haven't found your special spot yet."

"Maybe."

"So how is the _Free Press_?"

"I have cool co-workers and my boss totally respects me and likes everything I've written. Oh, and he assigns me things based on my ability, not based on our history or my personal life."

"That's all good. But you don't sound very happy about it."

"Yeah, no, it's a really good job, I'm lucky to work there. The newsroom gets a buzz that's really exciting when someone comes in with a big scoop. And there's this journalism program for high school students; they're all bright eyed and bushy tailed. They remind me of _me_ when I was younger. They have no idea that one day their dreams will come true and they'll be completely depressed about it."

"Rory," Lane reprimanded gently.

"No, I'm sorry. I just get lonely. I mean, I keep busy at work, but then there are thirteen hours of the day left over."

"You said your co-workers are cool, do you guys ever go out after work for drinks or anything?"

"They go out sometimes. I've gone along once or twice. I just don't feel like going out very much."

"Well, you have to give it time."

"I guess so. Tell me things about you. How is Dave?"

"He's good, we're good. We were working on this song the other day, while we were walking in the park, and didn't have anything to write on. So we had to keep singing it until we got home. Then Dave couldn't _quite_ figure out the melody on the—well, he couldn't figure it out so it ended up a little different, but we still like how it turned out."

"Lane?"

"What?"

"You can say the word _piano_."

"Sorry, I thought it would remind you of—,"

"It did, but it wouldn't be the first thing to remind me today. Besides, pianos are everywhere, if you pay attention."

"Oh, well, I'm still sorry."

"It's alright. Lane?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wish you could go back in time?"

"Why? Do you feel like getting down to the Jackson 5 or some other Motown sensation at the height of their fame?"

"No. I wouldn't go back that far. Just to April. I wouldn't have told anyone about this job. Or maybe I'd just ignore my phone when it rang. Then _I _wouldn't have known about it either."

"You just said you _like_ your job, Rory," Lane groaned. "And they don't make DeLoreans any more."

"I _do_ like my job; and I think my flux capacitor got lost in the move anyway. I just wonder sometimes, how things would have turned out if I'd been able to stay."

"Eventually you would have gotten another job and who's to say it wouldn't have been farther away?"

"So you're saying this was always going to happen? The only unknown factors were the place and the time?"

"I don't know, maybe. You know, Rory, I feel like you're viewing this move like it's the Green Mile. You don't have to stay there for the rest of your life. There'll be other jobs in other cities."

"I know. But in the mean time the world keeps turning. I can't expect it—and the people on it—to stop from moving on," Rory lamented. On the other end of the line, Lane considered this.

"I'd like to make a proposal."

"Won't Dave mind?"

"If you're worried about the world—or _someone_—moving on without you, then I propose that you make this a trial period," Lane continued authoritatively, not playing along this time.

"A trial period?"

"Yes, a given amount of time. At the end of the trial, decide which is more important to you. But you _have_ to promise me that you'll try harder to like Michigan. You have to actually put in effort and stop this sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Give it a _real_ chance, don't just half-ass it because we put a warranty on it." Rory didn't say anything for a moment.

"How long should this trial be?"

"Well, a few months, at least. When are you going to come home for a visit?"

"I don't know, Thanksgiving? Maybe my birthday."

"Come home for your birthday; I'll come home, too. If you have a good reason and don't want to go back to Detroit, then don't. You'll have tried; no one can say you didn't." Rory thought about this idea for a moment.

"What would constitute as a good reason?"

"Only _you_ know that."

"Alright, it's a deal. But Lane?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Can we keep this between us?"

"Of course."

"Oh, and Lane?"

"Yeah?"

"When you cross the river, at night, downtown Detroit looks pretty with the buildings lit up."

"Good."

"And if you go to the right spot, you can see Canada to the south."

"Score. Listen, I should go; Dave fell asleep on the couch, so I should tell him to go to bed."

"Okay; good night, Lane."

"Good night."


	23. You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 23**: You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory**

Rory was sitting on a large black leather couch on a Friday night. She tried her best not to notice it's similarity to another leather couch she used to frequent. One of her colleagues from the paper, Suzanne, was throwing a Christmas in July party; although with the hours they were all keeping at the office, it would be a Christmas in August party if a few more days went by. She had helped herself to a couple glasses of eggnog, which was made from scratch since it was out of season, so it was spiked generously. Everyone was now settled in Suzanne's large entertainment room, watching _It's a Wonderful Life_. The whole town of Bedford Falls was in George Bailey's living room, giving what they had to the man who had done so much for them over the years. When the townspeople started to sing "Auld Lang Syne," Rory couldn't help but think of the last time she had heard the song. . .

_As the last moments of 2010 were winding down, Rory was in Tristan's kitchen pouring Champaign into four long stemmed glasses. She was wearing a cute blue tea length dress for the evening, and had made Tristan wear a navy shirt so they'd coordinate. She carefully picked all four glasses up and walked to the next room, where Lane and Dave were standing next to the piano; Tristan was playing "Auld Lang Syne" while the other two sang. He was grinning and trying hard not to laugh at Dave's out of tune singing. Apparently alcohol did nothing for Dave's intonation. Rory handed her friends their glasses of Champaign and joined in on the end of the song. Tristan finished with a flourish and Dave moved to the living room._

_ "We need to turn the volume back up on the TV, there are only a couple of minutes left," Dave said, glancing around the room for the remote._

_ "Does anyone else think it's wrong that we have to rely on Ryan Seacrest to tell us when it's a new year?" Lane asked. _

"_I think it's wrong that you live in New York City, but are here in Connecticut to ring in the New Year," Rory countered. _

_ "Well, with everyone else in New York tonight, you should think of it as sticking it to the man," Tristan reasoned, looking at Lane._

_ "That's a good way of putting it, very rock and roll. I like it," Lane said. She went into the living room to watch the ball descend on the television with her husband. Rory turned to Tristan. _

"_Play it once, Sam. For old times' sake," she told him. He gave her an odd look._

"_I just played the requested song. And you must have me mixed up with one of your other boyfriends, _I'm_ Tristan."_

"_No, it's from—never mind, I know what we're going to watch tomorrow," Rory said as she handed Tristan his glass of Champaign and sat hers on top of the piano. He shifted his eyes from Rory to the glass. He picked the glass up and handed it back to her. _

"_This is not a coaster, missy," he said sternly._

_ "Oh, sorry," she said sheepishly and put it on a nearby shelf. She looked back at him with a raised brow. "Better?"_

_ "I suppose," he said, setting his own glass down on a side table. Rory sat down next to him on the bench, though she wasn't facing the keys like he was. She turned to him before she spoke._

_ "Dinner was delicious, my compliments to the chef."_

_ "Thank you; I had a good assistant," he said, leaning towards her._

_ "Why thank you."_

_ "You're welcome. Do Lane and Dave have everything they need in the guest bedroom?"_

_ "Yes. I even put mints on their pillows."_

_ "Nice; it's like you've worked in hospitality before. Like at an inn, perhaps."_

_ "You know, I _do_ have some experience in that area," she said with a grin. She looked into the living room at the married couple, who were smiling and embracing in a private moment. Tristan thought he saw a wistful glimmer in her eye as she turned back to him. _

"_So, 2010; it's been quite a year," he commented._

_ "It sure has," she agreed._

_ "Any regrets?"_

_ "No, none. You?"_

_ "Not a one," he answered, shaking his head._

_ "Good."_

_ "Hey guys, this is it! Ten, nine. . . " Lane started to count from the next room. Tristan and Rory didn't move from their place at the piano. He continued to look at her, not taking his eyes away from hers. Rory felt like a drum roll was playing inside of her as the last seconds of the year disappeared and Tristan moved towards her with impossible slowness. They could hear Lane and Dave cheerfully wishing each other a Happy New Year from the living room. Tristan paused when he was an inch from Rory. His eyes briefly flickered from her eyes to her lips and back. _

_ "Happy New Year, Rory," he said quietly. He finally closed the distance between them and kissed her. He kissed her sweetly at first, and then ran his tongue along her lips, she parted them to allow his exploration to continue, which he did readily. She fervently returned his vigor as he moved his right arm across her and placed his hand on her left hip. Before she was ready for the kiss to end, Tristan pulled away and looked at her again._

_ "What?" she asked, slightly out of breath._

_ "I just want to see what happens next."_

_ "I'm not running away," she said softly; a ghost of a smile played at Tristan's lips. "But I _do_ want to go somewhere, will you come with me?" Tristan nodded silently. Rory stood up and took his hand, pulling him with her. She glanced into the living room and saw that the other couple had vacated the room and had turned the television off. The medium sized Christmas tree that she had insisted on Tristan putting up was still glowing in the corner. She led him down the hall and they entered his bedroom for the first time in 2011._

"Rory?" a voice said. "Rory, are you there?"

"What?" she asked, blinking quickly as she came out of her reverie.

"You're not one of those people, who can sleep with their eyes open, are you?" Suzanne asked. "Because that's kind of creepy."

"No, I just zoned out there for a minute."

"Yeah, I saw. You look kind of melancholy; do you want to talk about anything?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Where did everyone go?" she asked as she looked around to see a mostly empty room.

"To get more eggnog, as though they really need more."

"Right," Rory lightly laughed. "I'm actually kind of tired. I might still be a little jet lagged from when I went out of town earlier this week. I think I'll get going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, thanks for inviting me."

"Hey, I'm just glad you took up an offer to come out."

"Yeah, I'm trying to get out more; my friend's orders."

"Alright, well thanks for coming tonight. Drive safe."

"I will," Rory said before getting up to leave.

When she was back at her apartment, Rory went into her room to get ready for bed. She opened her drawer and pulled out the crimson shirt that was still there. She put it to her nose and was disappointed when it smelled clean. Like all of her other shirts. She put it on anyway and climbed into bed with a book.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

On Saturday afternoon, Tristan aimed the basketball and threw it into the hoop. The net swished pleasantly before his brother grabbed the ball and took it back to midcourt. He dribbled and tried to shoot the ball, but Tristan blocked the shot. Matthew took a look at Tristan and thought that he was in as good a mood as any, so he took a chance at talking.

"Hey, so there's this woman at work," he started carefully.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's successful. She's very pretty; and single. She'd probably make a good date."

"Okay. But won't Felicity have a problem with you dating?"

"I wasn't talking about her for me. I thought maybe you'd like to be set up."

"What would make you think that?" Tristan asked as he took a shot and scored two points.

"Well, it's been, what, a little over two months? You just seem lonely."

"I'm fine," Tristan retorted; though now he looked a little less than fine. "I can stand to be in my living room for over an hour at a time now and I still only have one cat."

"So you haven't turned into a crazy cat lady, I guess that's good. I just thought that you might be interested in seeing someone again. You used to be happier. This summer you've brooded enough to be a character in a Bronte novel."

"So you think you can just find a replacement? Like it's that easy?" Tristan asked, throwing the ball too hard and missing.

"No, I'm not trying to replace anyone."

"I mean, do you think you can just throw some girl at me and suddenly I'll be happy again?"

"No. But what are _you_ saying? That you're never going to be happy with anyone else?"

"I didn't say that. I just don't want to be set up, okay?" Tristan said angrily. "Now check the ball!"

"Okay, Oscar the Grouch, I get it. Can I just ask one question?" Matthew inquired, taking the ball to the line again.

"If I say no will it stop you?"

"No."

"Then ask."  
"Are you ever going to shave again? I mean, it was fine in the winter, but it has to be hot in the summer. You look like a hobo."

"It's not hurting anyone," Tristan grumbled as he missed another shot. "It's not like ZZ Top is knocking on my door."

"Alright, but don't be surprised when someone mistakes you for the Unabomber," Matthew said.

They continued their game for a little while longer. However, clouds were forming over head and Matthew could see that he had spoiled Tristan's mood. Although they had stopped talking, the younger brother was still taking his frustration out on the backboard. It started to rain, so they walked the three blocks back to Tristan's apartment.

"Great, I'm soaked," Matthew complained when they were inside.

"You can borrow some of my clothes, just go help yourself to anything in my dresser," Tristan said, taking off his own wet shirt and shorts. He tossed them into the laundry and pulled on some clean clothes from the dryer. He sat down on the couch in the living room and turned on the television as Matthew walked into the room.

"Tristan, what the hell is this?" he asked, holding up a small box. Tristan glanced at his brother quickly and shrugged his shoulders.

"What does it look like?" he glowered.

"It _looks_ like a ring."

"Good job, Sherlock. I think you missed your calling as a detective."

"It doesn't look like just any kind of ring, either," Matthew went on, ignoring Tristan. "This is a diamond ring."

"So?"

"So? Men usually buy these when they want to make someone their _wife_! How long have you had this thing?" Matthew asked incredulously. Tristan shrugged again.

"It was just something Rory said once," he answered as he thought back to a warm July evening. . .

"_I'm not sure how my brother got so lucky with nice little girls. Karma says he should have a couple of rough neck wild boys who drive him crazy all day."_

_ "Maybe that's _your_ fate," Rory said with a smirk._

_ "God, I hope not," Tristan said with a shutter. "My grandparents enjoyed your company as well tonight."_

_ "Well the feeling is mutual; they were so nice to me."_

_ "They're just overjoyed that I finally brought someone around for them to meet. The fact that you're _you_ probably made them ecstatic."_

_ "Make me blush why don't you?" Rory said with a smile. "It's too bad your dad couldn't have come too."_

_ "He was out of town. I'm sure he'll be crazy about you too when he does meet you."_

_ "We can only hope. So are you ready for your twenty sixth birthday celebration? It's only two days away!"_

_ "I guess so."_

_ "Why don't you sound more excited?"_

_ "It's just that, well, I'm going to be closer to thirty than twenty."_

_ "Oh please, I'll be twenty six in October, too. We're still totally young. Plus, you've accomplished _so_ much already. Just think of all that you'll have by the time you're thirty," Rory reasoned. Tristan gave her a thoughtful look, his piercing blue eyes bore into hers. Rory blushed under the intensity of his gaze. _

_ "I'm sure you're right."_

_ When Rory said that, Tristan _did_ know what he wanted to have by the time he was thirty, and it didn't have anything to do with advanced degrees. He also knew what he was going to do about it. _

_The next morning, he got up extra early to practice for a few hours. Afterwards he got ready for the day as he usually did. But instead of going to the University of Hartford, he drove to a downtown jewelry shop. He walked in and looked in the display cases; there were a lot of choices. An employee approached Tristan to provide assistance._

_ "Can I help you find something?" she asked with a smile._

_ "I'm not sure, I'm really just looking."_

_ "I see you're thinking of popping the question."_

_ "Maybe some day."_

_ "Preparing in advance, then?"_

_ "You could say that."_

_ "Do any of these rings strike your fancy? I could take some out so you can get a closer look."_

_ "Okay, let me see that one and that one," he said as he pointed. The woman took out the pieces of jewelry. Tristan frowned at them and told her to put one of them back, replacing it with a different ring. He shook his head though and replaced it with another. _

_ "Those are nice," he commented._

_ "They are, the right one catches a lot of light and has more sparkle, but the one on your left is a little more unique, it's the only one of this cut that we have."_

_ "They're both pretty," he shrugged, not really knowing how these things were decided. _

_ "Here," the woman said, putting a ring on each of her ring fingers. "Okay, look at the right one. Now look at the left one." She took off the ring from her left hand and handed it to him. "I think this is the one."_

_ "How do you know?" he asked her with furrowed brows._

_ "I could tell because you smiled when you looked at it. You probably smile like that when you're with whomever this is for."_

_ "Well if it's that scientific, then I guess I won't argue."_

From that day forward, a small box had been residing in Tristan's sock drawer

"Let me get this straight," Matthew said. "You've had this sitting in your dresser for a _year_ now?"

"Do you have a point here? Because I'd really like for you to get to it."

"You have an _engagement_ ring in your drawer! And the girl you got it for is now in Michigan."

"I think I asked if you had a point," Tristan said impatiently.

"When were you planning on giving it to her?" He knit his brows in thought.

"When the time seemed right. For both of us."

"And the time didn't seem right when she said she was leaving?"

"What?"  
"Why didn't you propose so she'd stay here?"

"Because I'm not that selfish," Tristan retorted with a scowl. "And she wasn't even going to go."

"What do you mean, she wasn't going to go? I thought you guys broke up because she was moving away."

"She wasn't going to take the job in order to stay here with me." Matthew was taken aback, to say the least.

"I think I'm missing something here. Paris didn't give many details about what happened and you never embellished. I respected your privacy, but I think you need to divulge some information here." Tristan sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. How many times was he going to have to explain himself?

"She quit the _Journal Inquirer_ and had a job offer in Michigan. She said she wasn't going to take it, because _I'm_ here. I wasn't going to let her pass up the opportunity though, so I ended things. My brilliant plan worked; she went," he explained hurriedly. "Besides, didn't someone say some stupid shit about letting someone go when you love them?"

"Why didn't you let her decide on her own? Would it really have been so horrible if she didn't take the job?"

"Let me tell you a story; and stop me if you've heard it before. There once was a woman who got married and had a couple of kids. After some time, she regretted some of the choices she made, some opportunities she missed. So she left them."

"Ah geez, don't tell me you have abandonment issues," Matthew groaned. "I always wondered if you should have gone to therapy. Did you make her go because you were afraid she'd leave you on her own some day, the way Mom left us?"

"What? No; and I don't have abandonment issues; are you even listening? I might be a little scarred, but I wasn't thinking of Rory leaving me one day. I was _thinking_ about a young girl who was focused on what she wanted. She didn't let anything, or any_one_, distract her from her goals. Trust me; I _tried_ to be one of those distractions. This opportunity happened to be one of her goals. The big one, in fact," Tristan explained. "She never let me be a distraction then and I wasn't going to let me be one this time." Matthew thought about this explanation. Tristan thought about it, too. Neither spoke for a couple of minutes.

"Okay, when I think about it, I guess I can see how the two things might be connected," Tristan pondered. "Maybe I _do_ have issues."

"It would appear so. Can I ask a question?"

"I don't know why you keep asking that, you're going to anyway."

"You're right. Why are you here?" Matthew inquired.

"What? I _live_ here," Tristan answered, surprised and offended by the question.

"No, why are you in Connecticut? You were away for a long time. A really long time and _really_ far away. First you went to North Carolina, then Indiana, and last France—of all places."

"It's not like I had a choice in the first one," he argued.

"You know what I mean. Why did you come back here, to Connecticut?" Tristan shrugged.

"There was a job. The family is here."

"But what if there hadn't been a job in Hartford? What would you have done then?"

"I don't know, I'd probably have gone straight into a doctoral program, but I'm not sure where. Russia sounds pretty good about now."

"Have you ever thought, that maybe you came back for a different reason, other than those two you just listed?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean; maybe everything happens for a reason. Maybe you thought you were coming back to your family and a job, but really you came back so you'd run into Rory again." Tristan stared at him like he had two heads.

"What, like a higher power brought me here? That sounds pretty pious, don't you think?"

"Hey, you're the one who's been showing up to Mass more regularly. Although, I'll be the first to admit, I've suspected it's so you can have a generous helping of the communion wine."

Tristan sat and considered Matthew's ridiculous idea for a few minutes.

"Do you want to know something ironic?" he asked Matthew.

"What's that?"

"She quit her job here because her boss proposed to her."

"What?"

"Yeah, her boss was her ex-boyfriend; he was jealous of me," Tristan's shoulders started to shake with laughter. It'd been a long time since he'd laughed at anything.

"You're kidding," Matthew started to laugh too.

"No, it's true!" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. They laughed for a moment, and when they stopped, Matthew spoke again.

"You know, Tristan, we'll always be here."

"Who?"

"The DuGreys. Disregarding two notable exceptions; as a whole, we've never left."

"I know," Tristan reassured.

"So. Do what you need to do," Matthew said in earnest.


	24. Knockin' on Heaven's Door

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 24**: Knockin' on Heaven's Door

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N: **1- If you missed it (and are interested), I wrote an extension to chapter 23, called 'Better,' you can find it at my Live Journal, just go to my profile and then click on the homepage (if you don't feel like reading it, it doesn't have any vital information, so you're still fine). 

**Knockin' on Heaven's Door**

"I can't believe we finally got that issue out; special issues are such a pain! I thought it was going to kill us all," Suzanne said to Rory and their other co-worker, Elizabeth. They were seated at a table in a downtown Detroit restaurant, eating a late lunch.

"I know, I've been exhausted all week," Elizabeth complained. "I swear, every night I got home this week, my dog didn't recognize me. That's how many extra hours I've spent at the office."

"We _did_ work really hard," Rory agreed. "I'm glad this week is over. Working on a Saturday is just wrong."

"Seriously."

"We should reward ourselves tonight. I don't know about you ladies," Suzanne said, "but _I'm_ going to relax in a bubble bath and go to bed by nine. No, make it eight thirty."

"That sounds good, I guess. _I_ really want to see if I can get one of the interns to buy me a drink tonight," Elizabeth said with a grin.

"Aren't they a little young for you?" Rory asked with a raised brow.

"Hardly! It's not like I'm a cougar, here. I'm only twenty-nine years and twenty-five months old."

"Alright then." Behind Rory, the door to the restaurant opened and a tall, dark haired man walked in.

"Hey, Mary!" the man exclaimed as he walked across the restaurant. Rory looked up sharply. The man walked over to a blonde woman at the bar. Rory turned back to her lunch companions, but her heart was pounding oddly and it felt like something flopped inside of her. She also had a feeling that her cheeks might have turned pink.

"Are you okay? You look a little flustered all of a sudden."

"Oh, I'm fine."

"Well Rory, what are _you_ going to do to celebrate tonight?" Suzanne asked. Rory concentrated on her plate for a moment before she looked back up at the other two.

"I have to go," she told them as she got her wallet out of her purse. She took out a ten dollar bill and put it on the table.

"Where do you have to go all of a sudden?"

"I'm sorry to run out, I just. . . I just have to go," she told them quickly as she started towards the door.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Lorelai was sitting on the couch that night, across the coffee table from her son. They were playing one last game of _Shoots N' Ladders_ before Jeremy's bedtime, when the front door opened and then slammed shut. They both looked toward the foyer as Rory walked into the room. Lorelai's eyes got wide and she stood up.

"Oh my God, Rory, what are you doing here?" she asked as she hurried across the room to give Rory a big hug. "You're like a month early."

"I know, but I want to move back, Mom," she answered firmly.

"What? What do you mean? Things have been going well at the paper, haven't they?"

"Yeah, everything is really great. But I don't care; it's _too_ far away. I know I made a deal to give it until my birthday, but I already know that I want to come back and I don't want to wait another month. I don't want to wait another day!"

"Wait, what deal?" Lorelai asked in confusion.

"I made a deal with Lane. But it doesn't matter. I know what I want and I _want_ to go see Tristan."

"Tristan?"

"Yes. I tried the job and even though I like it, it's not worth it if I can't be with him; and I'm not just saying that because I'm lonely—I've gotten out more, I swear. If he doesn't believe all that, then I'll just have to change his mind. I still love him and I want to come home."

"This is all very Harry-going-after-Sally-on-New-Year's-Eve of you," Lorelai commented. "Did you already quit your job?"

"No. I was at lunch with a couple of girls from work and I just left. So can I borrow the Jeep?"

"Oh, so you want to go see him right now, then, huh?"

"Well, yeah. No offense, but that's kind of why I came. Not that I don't like seeing you, because I do."

"Okay. I'm just _so_ excited that you're here; I want to call everyone we know and tell them that you're home."

"That's fine; you don't need me here to do that, do you?"

"Well, no, I guess not. But let me at least call Sookie before you go. She'll be really excited to hear about this," Lorelai said, eagerly picking up her cell phone from an end table. She scrolled down her list of contacts and pressed call.

"Hey Sookie, guess what?" she asked. "No, no, I know you're busy with the kids, but give me a minute here. You'll never guess what just happened. Rory came home! I'm not joking; I'm looking right at her. I know, I was really surprised, too; but she wants to move back. . . I know. But we might not see her much this weekend, because she really wants to go see Tristan," Lorelai continued. Rory sat down on the sofa and took Lorelai's turn on the game and made small talk with Jeremy.

"I know; do you want me to tell her hi for you? Okay. Alright. How should I do that?" she asked and paused to hear the answer. "I'll see what I can do. Okay, see you later. Bye."

"What does she need you to do?" Rory inquired.

"Oh, just something for the inn. There's a wedding and I have to change something with the schedule—adjust a meal time. I'll fix it though; she says hi, by the way. So, what are you going to do? Have you talked to him at all?"

"Not since—well, you know when it was."

"So you're just going to go right over and knock on his door?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Oh no, I was just wondering if you were going to maybe make it all dramatic and walk right in without warning, or something."

"I can't do that; I don't have the key to his apartment. I took it off of my key ring when I got to Detroit. Shoot! Maybe I should have picked it up first. I didn't think about anything, I just left in the middle of lunch."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Here are the keys, you get going. I'm going to call everyone I know and tell them the good news. Should I wait up for you?" Lorelai asked as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Let's think positive and go with no."

"Gross. Good luck."

"Thanks, bye Mom. Bye Jeremy."

"Bye," the both answered. Lorelai sat back down on the couch and sighed heavily.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Thirty minutes later, Rory was standing in front of Tristan's door. The door had never made her nervous before. But here she was and for some reason, she could only stare at it. She shook the nervous thoughts out of her head and knocked. She didn't even know what to expect. Would he shut the door in her face? Would he make her go back to Michigan? Not that _that_ mattered, she wasn't going to go, not this time. She was going to put her foot down. She'd just stake out his hallway if she had to. That's how she'd gotten a job at the _Sanford_ _Gazette_ back in college. Sheer persistence. How long had it been? She knocked again and listened for movement coming from inside. She stood there for ten minutes, knocking and waiting. But the door never opened.

No matter, she thought, she'd just wait. It was a pleasant September night, so she went back down to sit on the step that led to the parking lot. And the waiting began. She smiled at a few tenants as they walked past her to get to their apartments. After she'd waited about an hour, her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Rory, I heard you're in town," Paris said.

"She really _is_ calling everyone, then. But yeah, I'm at Tristan's."

"Oh? Do I need to let you go?"

"He isn't here. You don't know where he is, do you?"

"Sorry, it's not my night to baby-sit him."

"Oh, well I guess I'll just keep waiting then."

"I'll come by to keep you company."

"You don't have to do that."

"Too late, I'm already here," Paris said as Rory saw a car park in the lot. Paris walked over and sat down on the step next to her. "It's good to see you," she said with a friendly smile.

"Thanks, it's good to see you, too. Hey, my old room is still empty, right?"

"Right."

"Would it be alright if I moved back into it?"

"Sure, but that'll be a pretty long commute to work, don't you think?"

"I decided that I want to move back. Don't tell Lane. I was supposed to wait until my birthday to make a final decision about what I want to do."

"You decided a month early?" Paris observed, but Rory shook her head.

"I decided a long time ago; or, it _seems_ like it was a long time ago. I guess I haven't been gone that long—it _feels_ like forever. I was just trying to keep up my part of the deal."

"I see." They sat for a long time in silence before Rory spoke again.

"Paris?"

"Yes?"

"You don't think he's out on a date, do you?"

"How would _I_ know?"

"Because you still talk to him. How else would I know that he's been in a moderately better mood?"

"That's true, we still talk."

"You'd tell me, if he was seeing someone new, right?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"Why would I tell you something that would make you sad?"

"Because we're friends and as my friend, you would be obligated to tell me if he got a new girlfriend. And then we would have to verbally abuse said girl."

"He doesn't have a new girlfriend, Rory. You did a real number on him."

"Okay. Thanks, Paris."

"So, how long are we going to wait?" Rory gave a sigh.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem like a good sign if he doesn't come back at all tonight."

"Hang in there. Let's just wait another hour. Then I recommend that you try again tomorrow. Maybe he's giving a concert or something and won't be back until really late."

"He's a classically trained pianist, not a member of Guns N' Roses," Rory argued. "But alright."

Tristan never came home. Rory stayed an extra half hour and Paris didn't make her leave sooner. Rory grudgingly got up at a quarter after one to go back to Stars Hollow. She didn't want to give up, but she _did_ have a foreboding feeling about Tristan not coming home.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"Rory, have some pancakes before you go. I put chocolate chips in them," Luke insisted the next morning. Rory looked at the food on the table and bit her lip. She _was_ hungry.

"Alright," she said as she sat down and took a bite.

"You know, I'll bet he's home today," Luke said confidently.

"I hope so." Lorelai walked in and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a plate of pancakes from Luke and sat down across from Rory.

"I thought of something last night when you were gone. Maybe Tristan was baby-sitting his brother's kids. He does that sometimes, right?"

"Yes, but they usually go over to his apartment," Rory countered.

"Yeah, but you never know. Sometimes kids are weird and want to stay home. And he's a nice guy, he'd probably go to their house if that was the case," Lorelai suggested as Jeremy walked in, still wearing pajamas and squinting in the sunlight. "Speaking of weirdoes."

"I guess I could go over to his brother's house if he's still not home."

"Good idea. You don't want to leave any stones unturned."

After finishing her breakfast, Rory drove back to Tristan's apartment building. She walked up to the second floor and knocked without hesitation this time. Impatience had replaced nerves. Well, maybe not entirely. Now she wasn't sure if she was more anxious about the door opening or about it remaining shut. When ten minutes had gone by and the door was still closed, Rory returned to the Jeep and drove to Hartford. She parked in front of a large brick house and got out. She didn't see any extra cars in the driveway, so that wasn't promising. But she went up to the porch and rang the bell anyway. There was no answer.

"Where _is_ everyone today?" she asked to no one in particular. This was really starting to get frustrating. She thought about what day it was and checked her watch. She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Duh!"

She drove the short distance to St. Augustine's Church. She didn't find Tristan's car in the parking lot, but she did recognize his brother's SUV. She parked and walked over to the vehicle. She didn't have to wait too long before people started exiting the church. When the DuGreys approached her, they looked genuinely surprised to see her. She smiled timidly at them.

"Rory! It's _so_ good to see you," Felicity greeted with a friendly smile.

"It's nice to see you guys, too. Can you tell me where Tristan is? He's not at his apartment and I don't know where else to look. He wouldn't be at work on a Sunday, would he?"

"Oh no, he's—," Janlen started.

"He had to go out of town," Matthew interrupted before fixing his grandfather with a withering look. "Something about giving a master class or . . . something like that."

"Do you know where he had to go?" Rory asked.

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure. Was it California? Or is that later this month that he has to go there?"

"I can't remember," Felicity answered. "He should be back some time later this week, though."

"Oh," Rory said, disappointed.

"Do you want us to tell him that you're looking for him?"

"No, that's okay. I guess I'll get going. Thanks anyway, though."

"Sure," Matthew answered as he started putting kids in the car.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Late Sunday afternoon, Lorelai was sitting with Rory at the airport. Again. Rory didn't feel any better today than she had the last time she was there to board a plane.

"Rory, don't worry, you'll be home for your birthday and I'm sure Tristan will be back in town then."

"I don't know if I want to come back for my birthday," she said sadly.

"What? Why not?"

"This was why I was going to come back in the first place."

"So? That can still be the plan. Did you ever try to call him?"

"No. It was more of an in-person kind of conversation. And it doesn't matter. I think he moved on. I waited too long," Rory lamented, not even caring when a tear fell down her cheek.

"What? Why would you think that? He's just out of town, like his family said."

"They were kind of weird about it, though. I think he has a new girlfriend. They probably just didn't want to have to break it to me."

"Didn't Paris tell you _specifically_ that he doesn't?"

"She did. _After_ she said that she wouldn't tell me if he _was_. Plus, she's said that he's been more tolerable lately. That has to be why. I'm just glad he didn't bring his new girlfriend home last night when I was waiting for him. That would have been humiliating."

"Rory, Paris wouldn't lie to you. If she said he isn't seeing anyone, then he _isn't_ seeing anyone."

"I guess you're right about Paris. But that doesn't mean he's not with someone else. I doubt he tells Paris everything. Do you remember after we . . . broke up . . . and you said he was willing to let me go?"

"Yeah, why?"

"If he's happy with someone else, then I guess I have to let _him_ go now."

"Rory, stop. I saw him after you left, he wasn't in good shape. And _you_ are not a quitter."

"Sure I am. I quit Yale, remember?"

"And then you went back—you went after what you wanted," Lorelai said firmly. "Why don't you try to call him? Just once, before you go. Maybe if you tell him that you're here to see him he'll come back from wherever he is."

"Fine," she replied with a sigh as she took out her phone. A minute later she grimly put the phone back in her purse and shook her head. "It went straight to his voice mail."

"It's all going to be fine, Rory." But Rory just shook her head again.

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be, good thing I didn't quit my job," she said. "I think I need to get going."

"Okay, but promise that you'll call me as _soon_ as you land. You're really sad and I want to know that you got there alright. So, do you promise?"

"Fine, I promise to call as soon as the plane hits the runway."

"Good. This _is_ going to be okay, Rory. Trust me. You can't just give up if this is what you really want."

"Maybe," Rory answered as they hugged. Lorelai watched as Rory walked through security; and when she was out of sight, Lorelai pulled out her cell phone.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Rory stood in front of her apartment door and sighed. She was getting really good at standing in front of doors. At least she knew this one would open. She unlocked the door and walked in. There was a light on in the kitchen and she panicked. She took her shoes off and held them at the ready; she was caught off guard by an orange cat running into the room. Rory looked down in confusion as the cat rubbed up against her legs.

"_Isolde_?" she asked quietly.

"Oh good, Mary; you're finally home. What kind of dressing do you want on your salad? And don't tell me that you don't want salad, because I saw your cabinets and refrigerator. The only things you had were Pop Tarts and take out. I'd ask if that's all you've eaten all summer, but I know the answer is yes."

Rory slowly looked up. Her eyes met tan khakis and a blue shirt before they met something else blue: Tristan's eyes. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reply. She looked back at him incredulously before she pursed her lips and threw her shoes down on the floor—hard. She marched up to him threateningly and shoved him.

"Hey!"

"Where _were_ you? I've been _looking_ for you!" she shouted at him, pounding her fists on his chest as she emphasized the words. "I needed to _tell_ you something! I convinced myself that you _moved_ on."

"Ow! Hey, stop!" he exclaimed, grabbing her by the arms. She tried to wrestle away, but he overpowered her, holding her firmly by the wrists. "You'd better stop or I'm going to tie you up. I'm good at tying knots, too; so you'd never escape," Tristan warned before reconsidering. "Actually, we could do that later if you're interested."

She glared at him. Tristan, however, chose to ignore this.

"I _heard_ that you were looking for me—from several sources. And I didn't move on; that's just silly," he said pleasantly. "So, you found me, what did you need?"

"I was going to _tell_ you that I'm moving _back_. I want to be _with_ you. And _don't_ tell me that three months isn't long enough to know what I want, Tristan, because it _is_!" He looked at her calmly.

"I wasn't going to argue. Three months sounds perfectly sufficient to know what you want."

"I _know_ it is. And maybe you were right about needing to give the job a chance. I like the _Free_ _Press_. But you were _wrong_, too," she said angrily.

"Wrong about what?" He raised a brow with interest.

"We _aren't_ through," she answered assertively. A few tears fell down her face. She struggled to move her arms as she spoke, but he still held on tightly to her wrists.

"You're right, we aren't. We never really could be, right? I mean, for one thing, we'll always have Paris," he said offhandedly.

"What? We've never been to France together," she asked in confusion. He mirrored her puzzled expression.

"I'm talking about Paris Geller, our mutual friend and middle-man . . . woman. What are _you_ talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. But as I was _saying,_ what's the point of some great job if I can't _tell_ you about a really big, important issue we just put out?" she asked. "Well, I'll tell you: there _isn't_ a point! I know this was my dream, but dreams can be _modified_, you know. So I'm moving back. And I could have _told_ you all of this if you had been at _home_!"

"About that. No you're _not_ and I _was_ at home."

"Yes I _am_ and no you _weren't_. I sat outside your apartment and waited for you for a _long_ time! I even went to Hartford this morning to ask your family where you were."

"Oh, well, see? That was your problem. I don't live there any more," he explained simply.

"What do you mean?" she asked, still glaring.

"You _do_ realize that we're both in Detroit, Michigan, right? For someone who went to Yale, you're kind of slow on the uptake tonight. And I don't know why you keep insisting that you're moving back to Connecticut. You're going to be here for at _least_ another three to ten years."

"Why three to ten years?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because that's about how long I'm going to be in graduate school at the University of Michigan; and you're going to stay here with me until I'm finished. I won't be able to start until next semester, but that's not a big deal. I'll occupy myself somehow until then."

"But what about Yale? It's the best school in the country. You can't just give that up for me."

"First, I'm going to stop you right there. We are _not_ going to have this conversation again, just for the fun of reversing the situation. I have a big problem with the way it ends. Second, that is _your_ extremely biased opinion. The University of Michigan happens to have an excellent college of music. And here's the convenient truth about Yale," he said before talking in a loud whisper, "_I don't care about Yale._ I care about _you_. And what's the point of going to some fancy school if it's five hundred miles away from you?" He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed the palm of it.

"Five hundred and forty-one miles," she corrected, losing steam.

"Five hundred and forty-one miles," he repeated with a half smile.

"But you can't just _move_," Rory protested, unrelenting.

"Sure I can. In fact, I already did. Don't worry, I got permission. Besides, state schools are _very_ economical—or so I've heard. I'm viewing this as my triumphant return to the Big Ten. Just think of all the sporting events I'm going to be able to drag you to," he said happily.

"What's the Big Ten?" she asked. He stared at her.

"I'm going to pretend like you're not serious."

"But what about your job, Tristan?" she continued as more tears ran down her face. "What are you going to do now?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"Like I said—go to school. I think my chances at becoming a graduate assistant are better here than they were at Yale. I have a bad feeling they're going to make me teach counterpoint to undergraduates, though," he said with a mournful shake of his head. "I can teach private lessons anywhere; maybe I'll set up a studio. Plus, there are several colleges near by, I'm sure one would be interested in having a young and attractive adjunct instructor join their staff. And even if they're not, I _do_ still have most of my trust fund. The house I bought didn't clean it out or anything."

"You bought a house?" she asked in surprise. "Here?"

"Yes and of course. Maybe I'll take you there some time; if you act right." She made a face at him.

"And don't worry about my job in Hartford. I quit that a month ago. Although, I'm fairly certain that my resignation was a lot less dramatic than _yours_." Rory cringed at the terrible memory.

"You heard about that?"

"_Mm-hmm_," he answered pointedly.

"That was the most horrible day ever. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to break up with someone you had no desire to share your future with?" she asked glumly.

"Uh, _no_, I don't, actually," he answered as he finally released her wrists so he could wipe off some of the tears from her face with his thumbs. "However, I _do_ know that it's exhausting to break up with someone who I have _every_ desire to share my future with."

"Really?" she asked, fresh tears falling.

"Really, really. Rory, I used to think that the worst day of my life was the day my mom left, but I was wrong. The worst day was when _you_ left."

"Your mom! What about her? You just started talking to her again, now you're far away."

"There _are_ phones, you know. We both have one. And while we're on the subject of my_ mother_, I should mention that her leaving _may_ have factored in to my pushing you into accepting the job here. She had regrets and I didn't want you to have any. And if you're wondering, _I_ don't have any; so I hope you're not expecting an apology for making you come here, because you aren't getting one. I _am_ sorry for the way it happened though."

"Me too."

"I never wanted to hurt you, you know that, right?" he asked in earnest as he took her hands in his and searched her eyes.

"I know," she answered quietly. "But what about the _rest_ of your family? You were already away for such a long time when you were in college the first time—two times."

"This is why I'm more than confident that they'll survive my absence this time. And they'll always be my family. We can't escape each other—as I've learned," he answered. He gave her a pensive look. "Would you rather that I move back to Connecticut? I mean, you seem to be having a hard time comprehending this; and I guess we could be pen pals or something, but you're going to have to be responsible for moving my stuff back. And just a word of warning, it's kind of a hassle to move a grand piano across four states. Then it'll have to be tuned again. Oh, and you'll have to keep Isolde; she's been really moody ever since you left."

"No, don't go," she said, taking hold of his arms, as if he was going to walk away, though he hadn't moved an inch.

"No?" he asked with a raised brow. Rory shook her head. "Good, because I wasn't going anyway," he put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head to look her in the eye. "Now, do you have any other concerns? I'd like for you to get them all out in the open now." She thought a moment.

"How long have you been in Michigan?" she inquired.

"A week. You could have saved yourself a trip if you had waited one more; I'm still in the process of getting things in order," he explained. "Sorry for giving you the run around this weekend, but I wanted to be the one to tell you that I moved. I made everyone swear not to tell you where I was. Actually, in my brother's case, I didn't even tell them who was looking for me; I didn't want them acting like they were expecting you. Lorelai was probably ready to spontaneously combust at any moment. You really know how to ruin someone's big plans."

"What were your big plans going to be if I was still upset with you?"

"I guess now you'll never know; which is a shame, because I was going to get creative."

"How?" she smiled. "Now I _do_ want to know."

"I might have given a concert and somehow arranged for you to write a review for the paper. That was pretty fun the first time."

"That wouldn't have worked, I learned my lesson. Plus, I listen to everything my boss says."

"That's good. But okay, then I'd probably bring you lunch every day at work and force my company on you while you ate it. And if that didn't work, I was invited to Stars Hollow for your birthday—maybe I'd jump out of a cake or something," he said before thinking some more. "On Halloween night you'd probably have gotten a trick-or-treater dressed as a sexy vampire—who has been roaming the earth for hundreds of years and just now found the one person he can't live without." Rory laughed lightly.

"Mom was right all along."

"About what?"

"About your status as undead."

"Oh, I always thought I hid it so well. Anyway, if you played _really_ hard to get and hadn't issued a restraining order by Christmas, I would really have had no choice but to take a leaf from Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg's book. You know, that _Saturday Night Live_ digital short where they put their junk—,"

"Okay, that's enough," Rory interrupted. "I get the picture; you would have kept trying until you wore me down."

"Pretty much. What about you? What were _you_ planning to do to win me back last night if I was determined to make you stay here? I assume you weren't going to try to beat me up."

"No. You already heard my speech. If that didn't work I'd probably just seduce you," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Hmm, go straight for the libido, huh?"

"It's usually most pragmatic." She looked around and frowned. "How did you get in here?"

"You keep your spare key in the same place you did at your other apartment. You should probably move it, anyone can get in."

"I can see that," she said wryly. "And you can keep it; if you act right."

"I _always_ act right; therefore, I _will_ keep it. So; are you finished?" She nodded silently. "Good. Now, aren't you going to ask me how my summer was?"

"How was your summer?" she asked. He still had her hands in his as he pulled her forward and he moved his hands to her hips.

"Horrible, no one wanted to be around me; and only in part because I listened to a lot of country music. I _did_ practice a lot, though," he answered before turning serious and quietly continuing. "I missed you, Rory. A lot."

"I missed _you_," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said before he finally kissed her. Dinner was forgotten as Tristan picked Rory up and carried her out of the living room.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Rory woke up in the middle of the night. There was a bare arm across her stomach and a naked body next to her own. She pinched the arm and Tristan woke up with a start.

"Ow! What was _that_ for?" he asked drowsily.

"I wanted to make sure that I wasn't dreaming," she answered. He pinched her side.

"Ouch!"

"You're not. Now go back to sleep, Mary."

**A/N: **2- So did it end the way you thought it would? Were you surprised? Were you happy? Disappointed? When did you figure out Tristan moved (because I know you knew before Rory)? Let me know. Please.

3- You may or may not be wondering what happened after chapter 23 (and after what I wrote on my LJ). Well, I took care of that. You can expect a chapter 23 ½ as a oneshot, if you're interested. Now that you know what happened, I can share (you just had to find out with Rory). The oneshot is called _It's So Easy_. There _is_ an Epilogue coming, so look out for that, too.

4- Trivia time! Who can tell me what I named all of the chapters after? I'll be more impressed if you don't have to use Google (not that I'll know). The answer is actually in this chapter.


	25. Epilogue: Sweet Child O' Mine

**Title**: Fixed Determinence

**Chapter 25**: Epilogue: Sweet Child O' Mine

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N**: 1- I can't believe this is the last chapter. Partially because I really liked writing it; partially because at one point I thought it would be another uncompleted story on —with all the others. But I'm so glad I came back and finished. I'm really proud of if and in my opinion it turned out better than what I thought it would.

2- Thank you so much for reading my story (especially if you started reading it five years ago). Thank you if you took the time to review (especially if you're one of the people who reviewed almost every update). I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

3- On the trivia question: What are the chapters named for? I apparently threw some of you off with that line Tristan had about listening to country music all summer. Now, while I _did_ use a quote from a country song at the beginning and I had Lady Antebellum's _Need_ _You_ _Now_ in mind when Rory left Tristan's apartment (It's a quarter after one/I'm all alone and I need you now), _Welcome to the Jungle_ and _November Rain_ are definitely not country songs (song titles was correct, though, so I'll give you that). The chapter titles are. . . Guns N' Roses songs (good job to the four of you who got it!).

**Epilogue: Sweet Child O' Mine**

"I'm sure you all know that spring break is just around the corner. But before we get there, we _will_ be having a celebration of knowledge, as your syllabus indicates. I recommend that you come to class every day before then, because I'll be dropping some more knowledge on you, and it _will_ be on the test," Tristan told the class that was seated before him. "Be sure to keep up with the reading and you'll need to be familiar with characteristics of symphonies from the Romantic period for the listening portion. Also—," he stopped when his phone rang from the breast pocket of his brown jacket. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.

"Excuse me, but I need to take this," he said as he answered the phone. "Hello?" He listened for a moment before he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I told her not to go in to work today. Do you know how far apart they are?" He listened to the answer with a grim expression. "Alright, thanks man. I'll be there as soon as I can," he replied before putting the phone back into his pocket.

"Today is your lucky day. I need to leave, so we're going to have to cut class short," he told the students. No one seemed too broken up about it. "We'll continue this discussion about the test next time."

"It sounds like you're going be pretty busy, Dr. DuGrey," a male student in the back of the classroom said knowingly. "Are you going to have enough time to grade all of our tests?" he asked hopefully.

"I'll find the time. And if I need a hand, I know of a few grad assistants who can help," he answered. "Have a good weekend, everybody."

Tristan gathered his things and shoved them all into his shoulder bag. He exited the room quickly and walked out of the doors of the Benjamin T. Rome School of Music building. He went to his car in the faculty parking lot and got in. It was a pretty day out, the sun was shinning and spring would be coming soon. As Tristan drove down Michigan Avenue to the northwest quadrant, he made a quick call. By the time he hung up, he was in the parking lot of the _Washington Post_. He entered the building and took the elevator to the third floor. Before he went to his destination, though, he stopped in the break room and got a cup of coffee. A young man with brown hair walked in and eyed Tristan suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting," Tristan answered, putting a lid on the cup.

"Are you sure that's all you're here for?"

"Yes. Is that okay?"

"I guess; as long as you're the only one in your car when you leave."

"I make no promises," Tristan replied as he walked out the door and down the hall. He entered an office and walked around the desk. He leaned up against the desk casually as he crossed his arms and looked at the brunette who was typing at her computer.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Rory asked.

"Oh, I just thought I'd drop by. How are we doing?" he asked nicely.

"I'm great," she answered heartily and looked at the time in the corner of her computer. "But shouldn't you be teaching a class right now?"

"I was. But then I got this call from your boss. He seems worried."

"I wouldn't be concerned; I always tell Doyle he stresses out too much. If it's not one thing, it's something else."

"Well, today he seems a little stressed about _you_. He thinks you might need to leave," Tristan explained.

"He does? That's so weird. I can't leave, I have things to do," she said before she stopped typing. She looked away, but Tristan already saw her eyes close tightly and her knuckles turn white as she gripped the edge of her desk. Tristan looked out the window and concentrated on something outside, pretending not to notice her discomfort. Two could play this game. He glanced at his watch as she turned back.

"Still doing alright, there, Mary?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?" she asked, out of breath.

"Oh, I'm good. It's just that, you look kind of uncomfortable. And you're perspiring a little."

"I'm just . . . really into this article I'm writing."

"I see," he observed as she continued typing. "Would you like to go on a drive with me? We could go look at the Potomac, maybe swing past the National Mall—it's a nice day out, so we could throw a Frisbee around—oh, and I thought we could end at the hospital," Tristan suggested nonchalantly.

"Why would we go to the hospital?"

"I think the reason is pretty obvious."

"The doctor said I have another week."

"And what have _I_ been saying?"

"You've been saying it would be today. But Tristan, you're _not_ that kind of doctor," she insisted. "And just because _you_ were born on the thirteenth of the month doesn't mean your offspring will be, too."

"Apparently it does, actually. Now come on, let me take you to the hospital."

"But I'm almost finished with my rough draft; if you just let me type the final copy, I'm sure it won't take long."

"You have to proof read it before you can type the final copy," he reminded her.

"Darn it, I _knew_ I was forgetting something."

"I thought so. And if I let you do all that, I'm fairly certain there will be a third person in the room before you're finished. And you're right; I'm not _that_ kind of doctor." Rory closed her eyes again suddenly and tapped her foot on the floor. She cringed as she put a hand to her protruding belly and finally exhaled. Tristan looked at his watch again and took a drink of his coffee. Rory looked at the cup as he sat it down on her desk in front of her. Actually, it was more like a glare.

"You guys have good coffee here," he commented pleasantly.

"I know," she said with gritted teeth. "I made Doyle switch to a good brand when I started here."

"You know, I think I remember you saying something about that. Would you like some?"

"I can't have any, you know that. And it's _your_ fault."

"That may be. But you could have some, you know, if you'd just let me take you to the hospital so the doctor can take that out," he said, pointing to her stomach. "It's not like your exposing Watergate, here."

"Are you saying that what I'm writing isn't important?" she asked, offended.

"I would never say that. But there _are_ other people here who write features for the _Post_. We've met them, they're very nice people. I don't think they'd mind at all if you had to leave in the middle of the day to go have a baby."

"That's not entirely true. I _know_ why you're really here. _You_ just want to win the office pool! I don't even know how you got to participate, you don't work here!" Tristan nodded in agreement.

"That's true. Being friends with the boss' wife has perks." He looked down at his watch again as Rory grabbed his other hand and squeezed it hard. "Okay, Rory, you've had your fun, but we need to go. Now. You're not going to be able to get the drugs if you wait much longer."

"Oh _shoot_, I forgot about that," Rory groaned. "Tristan?"

"Yes, Dear?" he said kindly.

"I'm afraid to stand up." Tristan's eyes got wider and he raised a brow.

"What?"

"I thought I was okay, but now I'm not so sure."

"Do I need to call an ambulance?" She shook her head vigorously.

"No, that would be _really_ embarrassing."

"Well, you're going to have to try to stand, then. And go slow," he instructed as he helped his wife out of her swivel chair. They walked out of the office and slowly made their way down the hall in the direction of the elevator. The man who'd walked in on Tristan in the break room blocked their path.

"Hey, what did I tell you?" he said accusingly to Tristan. "Rory, don't you want to wait until maybe next Tuesday? It's just a few more days."

"No, she can't," Tristan answered. "Now move."

"I tried to tell him, Justin, but he's making me go!" Rory said as they heard a splashing noise. "Uh-oh."

"Gross, what's that?" Justin asked, looking at the floor.

"That's the sound of me winning your office pool," Tristan answered.

"You know what? I think I'm going to get out of your way," Justin said, backing away.

"Tell Doyle I'm sorry!" Rory called out as Tristan escorted her into the elevator.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

A few hours later, Tristan walked up the stairs to a large brick structure. He entered the government building and took out his driver's license for the security guard to see before walking through the metal detector. When he was cleared he went to the elevator and rode it to the seventh floor. He walked down the hall and entered one of the offices. Paris was seated at her desk and looked up when he walked in.

"You aren't walking funny," she observed. "I take it Rory didn't get what she wanted."

"Nope," he said with a smile as he took out his cell phone and showed her the background picture.

"Damn, I lost on a technicality. I was _so_ close, too."

"Yup, but I was closer," he said, putting the phone back in his pocket.

"I guess this means the world hasn't seen the last of your Aryan spawn yet."

"Well I can't say for sure, but it looks like my guys will swim another day," Tristan said as he looked around the office. "Speaking of my spawn, where's the other one? You didn't forget to pick him up did you?"

"No, I didn't forget, he's in the bathroom," she answered, nodding her head in the direction of a door disguised as the wall. They heard a toilet flush just then. "Wash your hands!" Tristan yelled before walking towards the door. "I'll just go make sure he does." When he walked back out, he was carrying a small blonde boy at the waist. He stood the boy on the chair on the other side of Paris' desk and stood next to him.

"I thought about having him file, but I was afraid he'd get to G and start from the beginning again," Paris stated dryly.

"Rory made sure he learned the rest. Not that _I_ find the other nineteen letters entirely necessary," he replied.

"Daddy!" the boy exclaimed.

"What is it, buddy?" Tristan asked, looking down at his son. The three-year-old said something quickly, Paris and Tristan both listened with knit brows as they caught a few of the words, though not enough to make any sense.

"You don't say," Paris commented. Tristan looked at her and grinned.

"Aw, come on, Paris, you know you want another one."

"One is more than enough, thanks."

"You'll see. Well, Adam, are you ready to go see Mommy?" he asked. The boy nodded. "Good, we have a surprise for you." He picked the child up again.

"Tell Rory we'll be by later," Paris said.

"Will do. Thanks for picking him up, Paris."

"No problem," she replied as the two left her office.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Rory was sitting up in the hospital bed, reading a book when Adam walked into the room, carrying a bouquet of yellow tulips. Tristan was a step behind him, with a tall cup of coffee in his hand.

"There are my boys," she greeted happily as she put the book down. Her son walked to the bed and handed her the flowers.

"Here, Mommy."

"Thank you, they're so pretty," she said with a smile. She eyed the cup in Tristan's hand. He handed it over silently and she smiled bigger. She smelled the cup's contents and sighed dreamily. "I love you."

"Are you talking to me or the coffee?"

"Right now it's fifty/fifty. This is starting to make up for earlier."

"The part where I made you come to the hospital? Or what you did once you got here?"

"Yes," she answered. Tristan just smiled and kissed her on the forehead before sitting down in a chair next to the bed. Rory took a sip and smiled again. "This is worth bottle feeding. I don't even care if they blame me for their bad behavior and misfortunes later in life."

"If they drive us too crazy, I know of a good military school that will straighten them right out," Tristan said as he picked Adam up and sat him on his knee. A nurse walked in then, pushing a basinet.

"The family is all here," she observed as she handed Rory the baby, who was wrapped in a blue blanket, and a bottle.

"Yup," Rory answered with a grin.

"I'll be back later to take him to the nursery," the nurse said, walking towards the door.

"Okay, thank you." Tristan picked up a piece of paper from a nearby table and read what it said.

"You had them put doctor before my name again?" he asked Rory.

"Well yeah, that's what it says on Adam's birth certificate."

"I thought that was because I'd only had my DMA for a year when he was born."

"I don't want anyone to think you had your title revoked between kids," she explained.

"What do the _real_ doctors think about it?" he asked.

"They may or may not have rolled their eyes a little. But I don't care. You worked hard too, so they can just humor me," she said before looking down at the baby and sighing. "I can't believe it's another boy," she half-heartedly complained. "I'm really out numbered now."

"_I_ can't believe you wouldn't let us find out beforehand—again. What year are you living in?"

"The current year—2020."

"More like 1920."

"I'm just old fashioned."

"You're not _that_ old fashioned."

"Well, still. I had high hopes it would be a girl this time."

"I know. But what can I say? I'm very manly. May I present Exhibit A," he said, indicating his face. There was technically still about a week of winter left. Rory rolled her eyes at him. "I guess I just have a lot of Y chromosomes; and I like sharing my things with you."

"You're so generous."  
"It's true, I am."

"I suppose this means there _might_ be a next time; so you'll just have to try harder." Tristan snorted.

"I think I always put forth a valiant effort. And watch what you wish for. Look how many girls Matt had to have before he got a _boy_."

"Well, three, and they started out with twins, so Felicity really only had to—," Rory started before thinking back to earlier that day. "Never mind. It still counts as two people coming out of you, even if it was at the same time."

"I think she'd agree," he said before looking at the boy on his lap. "Well, kid, it's going to be just you and me at home tonight. Did you have a good day at preschool today?" The boy nodded and smiled.

"We painted," he explained.

"That sounds like fun," Rory said. "Do you want to meet your little brother?" He nodded again. Rory put the bottle on the table as Tristan got up to take the bundle from her. He sat back down and, with the baby's head in his hands; he rested his arms on his legs. Adam stood next to him and they both looked down at the newest member of the DuGrey family. Tristan turned his head to his first born.

"His name is Hayden," he quietly told Adam. "Are you going to be nice and share your toys with him?" Adam nodded shyly.

"Good. And you'll have to look out for him, too. Little brothers get into trouble sometimes." Adam leaned against his father's leg as he looked at his tiny sibling; Tristan gently stroked the baby's warm head, feeling the soft peach fuzz. They stayed like that for little while before Tristan handed the baby back to Rory. He looked around at the floral arrangements in the room. "Who are all the flowers from?"

"Two are from your family; three are from mine. And one is from the Rygalskis. They've been pouring in steadily ever since you left. You really know how to get the word out."

"Yeah, it's one of the top three things I'm best at. Everyone must have had the local florist on speed dial. I'm glad _some_ people take my predictions seriously," Tristan teased as he took a couple pieces of candy from one of the arrangements. He handed a piece to Adam and popped the other in his mouth. "By the way, Paris said they'd be by later."

"Good. Oh, did you pick up today's paper?" Tristan picked up a copy of the _Washington Post_ from beside his chair and laid it on the table in front of Rory.

"I got it earlier. But you should probably just put that article you were writing earlier in his baby book. I'll mark the spot you were on when your water broke." Rory made a face at Tristan as he sat down again and Adam climbed back onto his lap. Rory looked at the top of paper.

"I can't believe that it's Friday the thirteenth, just like when you were born," she commented with a shake of her head. "What do you think the odds are of that happening? One in a million?"

"They're probably a lot less. Besides, I can think of stranger things that have happened."

_**Fin**_

**A/N**: 4- Thanks again for reading. If you're hoping for a sequel, I'm sorry, but I just don't have plans for one. That being said, you haven't seen the last of this Tristan and Rory. There are scenes in my head of things that happened in the eight and a half years between chapters 24 and 25—things such as: When _did_ Tristan give Rory that ring he had for so long? And then, when did they get married? And: How long did they stay in Michigan? When/Why did they move to Washington DC (you figured that out, right?)? And maybe even: What happened the day after Rory found Tristan in Detroit?

Well, there are some things still bouncing around in my head and I've found that they generally don't leave me alone until I write them. So you'll probably get more oneshots, or as I like to call them, bonus chapters (Did you find and read _It's So_ _Easy_? It's up.). And I _might_ even write a short ficlet. If I think something is too short to be oneshot material, then I'll post it on my Live Journal—along with more author's notes (mostly because I put a lot of thought into this, and don't mind sharing it now). While I like the idea of leaving the details to your imagination, _my_ imagination already thought about it; and typed up a timeline spanning about fourteen years. No joke.

I think that is all I have to say at this time.


End file.
